












































































































































This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 


JAN 2 y, 
| JA 1997 Jar 
| > 


MAY 10 1948 





Form L-9-15m-10,'25 


LIESKANY, 
LOS ANGELES, GAaLir, 








Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2008 


https://archive.org/details/investigationsreOOuniv 


THE DECENNIAL PUBLICATIONS OF 
THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO 


THE DECENNIAL PUBLICATIONS 


ISSUED IN COMMEMORATION OF THE COMPLETION OF THE FIRST TEN 
YEARS OF THE UNIVERSITY'S EXISTENCE 


AUTHORIZED BY THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES ON THE RECOMMENDATION 
OF THE PRESIDENT AND SENATE 


EDITED BY A COMMITTEE APPOINTED BY THE SENATE 


EDWARD CAPPS 


STARR WILLARD CUTTING ROLLIN D. SALISBURY 
JAMES ROWLAND ANGELL WILLIAM I. THOMAS SHAILER MATHEWS 
CARL DARLING BUCK FREDERIC IVES CARVENTER OSKAR BOLZA 


JULIUS STIEGLITZ JACQUES LOEB 


THESE VOLUMES ARE DEDICATED 


TO THE MEN AND WOMEN 
OF OUR TIME AND COUNTRY WHO BY WISE AND GENEROUS GIVING 
HAVE ENCOURAGED THE SEARCH AFTER TRUTH 
IN ALL DEPARTMENTS OF KNOWLEDGE 





INVESTIGATIONS 





THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO 


FOUNDED BY JOHN D, ROCKEFELLER 


INVESTIGATIONS REPRESENTING 
THE DEPARTMENTS 


GREEK LATIN COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY 
CLASSICAL ARCH HOLOGY 


THE DECENNIAL PUBLICATIONS 
FIRST SERIES VOLUME VI 


CHICAGO 
THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS 
1904 





ie 

II. 

IIT. 
~*~ 
xn 
a 
~ 

a LY: 

bi V. 
*) 

VI. 

= VIL. 

VIII. 

IX. 


CONTENTS 


A Greek Hanp-Mrrror IN THE Art INSTITUTE oF CHICAGO (with 
Plate I) - = : = = = = z 2 2 = 


By Franx Biaetow TarBett, Professor of Classical Archeeology 


A CANTHARUS FROM THE Factory oF BryGos In THE Boston MusEuM 
or Fine Arts (with Plates II, III) - - - - - - 
By Frank Biarrow Tarsett, Professor of Classical Archeology 


THE MEANING OF é7t THs ocxKnVAS IN WRITERS OF THE FourTH CENTURY 


By Roy C. Frickinaer, Assistant in Greek 


THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA IN RELATION TO HISTORY AND 
To ENCOMIUM - 2 Re 2 - = . 2 e zs 


By Grorae Lincotn Henpricsson, Professor of Latin 


A STICHOMETRIO SCHOLIUM TO THE MEDEA OF KURIPIDES, WITH REMARKS 
ON THE TExT oF Dipymus - = = 7 = = = = 
By Tenny Frank, Assistant in Latin 


THE CoMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO QUINTUS CICERO 


By Grorce Lincotn Henpricxson, Professor of Latin 


A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO - - = 


By Cart Daruina Bucs, Professor of Sanskrit and Indo-European 
Comparative Philology 


Two Twicre-Totp TaLes - : = = : = = = é 
By Joun Jacos Meyer, Associate in Sanskrit 


Tue Unity or Puato’s THoucHtT = = = = - = = 


By Pavt Suorey, Professor and Head of the Department of Greek 
ix 


11 


61 


69 


95 


CONTENTS 





X. THe ToLepoO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS - = = Wills 
By Frank Frost Asgort, Professor of Latin 


XI. THE INTRODUCTION OF CoMEDY INTO THE City Dionysia: A CHRONO- 
LOGICAL StupY IN GREEK LiTrERARY History (with Plate IV) - 259 
By Epwarp Capps, Professor of Greek 


A GREEK HAND-MIRROR 





A GREEK HAND-MIRROR IN THE ART INSTITUTE 
OF CHICAGO 
Frank Biagetow TarBELL 


Ir is but little more than twenty years since Rayet, in the text to Plate 22 of the 
Monuments de l’art antique, commented upon the strange fact that Greek hand- 
mirrors, such as are known from Attic vase-paintings and reliefs to have been in 
common use, had not been found. The lacuna signalized by Rayet has since been 
filled. Besides the very early hand-mirrors found by Dr. Tsountas at Mycenz, there 
now exist in the museums of Athens and other cities not a few such mirrors or parts 
of mirrors, of Greek manufacture, and dating from ca. 600 B. C. onward. One class 
has the handle cast in one piece with the disk. In half a dozen known instances the 
handle is covered with reliefs of early style, while examples with plain handles, from 
the Argive Hereum and elsewhere, exist in considerable numbers in the National 
Museum of Athens. Another class, which was certainly in use throughout the fifth 
century B. C., and probably later, does not have a complete handle of bronze, but a 
short shank, which is either of one piece with the disk or cast separately, and which 
evidently fitted into a handle of wood, bone, or ivory, now generally lost. In case 
the shank is of a separate piece, it is likely to have some ornamental form where it 
joins the disk, e. g., Ionic or quasi-Ionic volutes with palmettes, as in the examples 
published in the "E¢npepis ’Apyaoroyixy, 1884, Plate VI, 4 and 5; a siren, as in one 
from Cyprus in the British Museum (Catalogue of Bronzes, No. 246); an Eros, as in 
the one published in the Jahrbuch des archdologischen Instituts, 1888, p. 246; or a 
Victory, as in one in the Bibliothéque Nationale of Paris (Catalogue des bronzes, 
No. 1349). 

It is to this class that the mirror represented in Plate I belongs. It was bought 
in 1890 of Messrs. Rollin et Feuardent, of Paris, by Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., of 
Chicago, and has been deposited by him in the Art Institute of this city. It is said, 
on what evidence is unknown, to have been found in Etruria. At all events, it is 
clearly of Greek, and not Etruscan, manufacture. 

The mirror-disk has a diameter of nineteen centimeters. The reflecting surface is 
very slightly, and at present not quite uniformly, convex. The edge of the disk is 
ornamented with the “egg” pattern (not visible in the illustration), within which 
is a fine bead pattern. The back of the disk is plain. 

The handle is at present detached from the disk, but the original connection is 
sufficiently guaranteed by traces upon the latter. At the back the bronze part of the 
handle is prolonged upward into a palmette, which served to make the attachment to 
the disk secure. In front the ornamental feature consists of a relief of a siren in 

3 


4 A GREEK Hanp-MIRROR 





front view, with recurved wings, surrounded by scrolls and palmettes. A strip of 
bead pattern above the siren’s head matches that on the disk. The volutes of the two 
lower and smaller palmettes turn outward. Those of the two upper were intended to 
turn inward, but, through an inadvertence of the artist, one of the volutes of the 
upper palmette on the left is reversed in direction. The entire composition may be 
compared with that on a standing mirror from Hermione in the Louvre (Reinach, 
Répertoire de la statuaire, Vol. II, p. 702, 6), where again a slight asymmetry is 
observable. Of the two the present specimen has the advantage in the compactness 
and appearance of solidity of the design. 

An especial interest is lent to the Chicago mirror by the fact that the handle 
proper, into which the shank of the bronze attachment fits, is here preserved. The 
circumstance is unusual, and, as far as I know, unique, among Greek hand-mirrors of 
the historical period. As the result of a microscopic examination kindly made by 
Professor F’. R. Lillie, it appears that this handle is of bone, and not of ivory. It is 
eleven centimeters in length, and is bored through from end to end. The bronze shank, 
now securely in place, seems to extend about three and one-half centimeters into the 
tube. In form the handle is not quite cylindrical, but tapers downward, until at the 
bottom it expands into a sort of collar. It is now much corroded, but the original 
polished surface is preserved here and there. There is no decoration, except that 
of incised rings; a group of three at the top, then two, then one, then two, and finally 
two on the collar. 

For determining the date of this mirror there is no evidence except the style of 
the bronze relief. The workmanship on the face of the siren is not sharp enough to 
afford a basis of judgment, but the composition as a whole finds its nearest analogies 
in objects assignable to the fifth century B. C., such as the bronze handles figured in 
the Antiquités du Bosphore cimmérien, Plate XLIV, 3 and 7, and the mirror from 
Hermione in the Louvre, referred to above. The recurved wings of the siren, con- 
trasted with the more truthful shape of those to be seen, e. g., on the hydria figured 
by Professor Furtwangler in the Sammlung Sabouroff, text to Plate CX LIX, if not 
decisive, are at least favorable to this dating. So likewise is the character of the 
palmettes, with their relatively large volutes. Signs of the archaic period, such as 
may be seen in some of the small bronze sirens of the Athenian Acropolis (Ridder, 

sronzes de Lacropole, figs. 112-14), being absent, 450 B,C. may be taken as an 
approximate date. 


DEGENNIAL PUBLICATIONS, VI PLATE I 





Greek Hanp-Mirror 





us 


A CANTHARUS FROM THE FACTORY OF BRYGOS 


\\ 





A CANTHARUS FROM THE FACTORY OF BRYGOS IN THE 
BOSTON MUSEUM OF FINE ARTS 


Frank Breetow TarBELL 





Tue vase which I am permitted by the authorities of the Museum of Fine Arts in 
Boston to publish was acquired by the Museum in 1895 and is mentioned in the 
Report of the Museum for that year on p. 20, under No, 24, as well as in the Archdo- 


logischer Anzeiger for 1896, p. 96, under No, 24. 


According to information believed 


to be trustworthy, it was found in Beeotia. The drawings reproduced in the head-piece 
and on Plates II and III are by the skilful hand of Mr. F. Anderson. 
The vase is a cantharus,’ measuring 0.247 meter in height to the top of the 


handles. 


It has been broken, but not seriously. 


Only a few small bits are missing, 


and the design has suffered no serious loss, except on the head of the female figure. 
The preliminary sketch, made before the clay was thoroughly hardened, is distinctly 


1The shape resembles closely that of an early black- 
figured specimen in Berlin, No. 1737 (GERHARD, Etruskische 
und campanische Vasenbilder, Plate XIII, 1-3), and of a 
red-figured one in the Cabinet des médailles, Paris 
(photograph by Giraudon, No. 92), Although this form of 
drinking-cup is represented with great frequency on Attic 
monuments, chiefly vases, of the sixth century and the 
early fifth, actual specimens are comparatively rare in the 
Attic black-figured and early red-figured styles. For this 
and other reasons it seems likely that the form, like several 
others used for pottery, was designed for metal, and that 
the representations in art were often intended to be under- 
stood as of metal. 

There is another type of cantharus (Catalogue of Vases 


in the British Museum, Vol. III, p. 18, fig. 19), characterized 
by a bridge extending from each handle to the rim of the 
bowl and by a spur on the outside of each handle below the 
bridge. This type seems to occur somewhat more fre- 
quently in Attic pottery than the foregoing. It is repre- 
sented on certain coins (e. g., British Museum Catalogue of 
Greek Coins, *‘Central Greece,” Plate VII, 3; Plate XIII, 
10, 11,16; ‘“‘ Thessaly, etc.,’’ Plate XXI, 13, 19, 20; Coins of 
the Ancients, Plate 12, 4), but is almost unknown in vase- 
paintings. An instance, however, is found on an unpub- 
lished white lecythus in Munich. 

A third type is exemplified by the cantharus of Epige- 
nes (Wiener Vorlegeblitter, B, IX). 


4 A CANTHARUS FROM THE FacTorRY OF BryGos 





traceable in places. The hair of the woman is done in streaks of alternately lighter 
and darker brown. Light yellowish brown is used for the lines on the upper part and 
inside lower part of the woman’s chiton, for the minor anatomical markings of the 
three male figures, for the hair on the front of Zeus’s body, for his gaiters, and for 
the criss-cross markings of the palm tree. Purple is used for the ribbons which con- 
fine the woman’s and the boy’s hair, for the woman’s girdle, and for the soles and 
straps of Zeus’s sandals. The black background is of a greenish tinge. 

The subjects of the designs demand but little explanation, inasmuch as they offer 
On the one side (Plate II) a bearded male figure, wearing only a 
himation and holding a scepter in his left hand, is in hot pursuit of a fleeing woman, 
who turns toward him with a gesture of appeal. The male figure is almost certainly 
Zeus. The woman may be intended for Aidgina, as on a stamnos in the Vatican 
(Museo Gregoriano, II, Plate XX), where the name is attached; but, in view of the 
number of Zeus’s similar adventures, she is best left anonymous.’ She wears an Ionic 
chiton, which she pulls up with her right hand for greater freedom in running. The 
garment appears as if open on the right side, but this is probably only an error in 
drawing. Over the chiton the woman wears a himation. Her back hair hangs down, 
the ends being gathered up into a bunch, tied with a ribbon.’ Behind Zeus is an 
altar with a palm tree, showing that the scene is conceived as taking place in or near 
a sacred precinct,* probably of Apollo. 

On the other side of the cantharus (Plate III) Zeus is seen again in pursuit. 
He is dressed as before, except for the addition of sandals and what appear to be 
The 


nothing novel. 


gaiters.” The object of his pursuit is this time an immature boy, Ganymedes.° 
latter wears a himation and, as frequently, carries a hoop and stick. 

More interesting than the subjects is the question of authorship. It is obvious 
that the vase belongs in the early part of the fifth century, and is the work of a man 
Nor is it difficult to narrow the determination further. The dots 
upon all four himatia, the dotted border of Zeus’s himation and his obliquely striped 
scepter in the Ganymedes scene, the rendering of the woman’s hair in shades of 


brown, the liberal indication of hair along the median line of Zeus’s body, and the 


of unusual talent. 


2 OVERBECK, Griech. Kunstmythologie, Bd. IT, pp. 398-402. high boots (évdpouises). But in the case before us the foot- 


8 The same arrangement of the hair occurs on the cylix 
by Peithinos in Berlin, No. 2279 (HArtwia, Meisterschalen, 
Plate XXY), on a cylix in Corneto (ibid., Plate LXXV), and 
on a hydria in the Cabinet des médailles, Paris (photograph 
by Giraudon, No. 75). Cf. also the archaic Artemis from 
Pompeii (Rémische Mittheilungen, 1888, p. 282). 


4Jaun (Archdologische Aufsdtze, pp. 149, 150) called 
attention to the frequency with which an altar is intro- 
duced into scenes of abduction. According to him it means 
that the event is thought of as taking place at a religious 
festival, and it reflects the fact that on such occasions 
Greek girls had a liberty of public appearance not usually 
accorded to them. 


5The articles in question are commonly described as 


gear proper, to judge by the purple straps, ends just above 
the ankles. I conceive that the leg-coverings are separate 
from the footgear. They may perhaps be bandages, wound 
about the legs and held in place by cords (indicated in 
black). On the British Museum cylix E. 69, ascribed to 
Brygos (Wiener Vorlegebldatter, VI, 2), the representation 
is similar, except that there the dabs of brown color, in- 
stead of being confined to the legs, appear also between 
the straps of the sandals, as if the bandages were wound 
about the feet as well as the legs. On E. 264 in the British 
Museum the representation seems to agree with that on the 
Boston cantharus. On E. 276 and E. 361 the black lines are 
drawn about the legs, but the brown dabs are omitted; and 
this appears to be a common mode of representation. 


6 OVERBECK, Griech, Kunstmythologie, Bd, II, pp, 515-18, 





FraNK BicgeLtow TARBELL 5 


peculiar arrangement of the hair at the back of Zeus’s neck’ are all in the style of 
Brygos (if we may for convenience so call the man who decorated the cylices signed 
with Bpoyos éromoev). And, though each of these features may be found in the work 
of one or more of his contemporaries, taken collectively they point pretty strongly to 
him. Again, the triple ends of the hair-ribbons and of the girdle are characteristic of 
Brygos. But more decisive still are the narrow eyes, sensitive nostrils, and parted 
lips of the faces, and the headlong impetuosity of movement in the figures. These 
indications are sufficient to assure us that this vase was not merely produced under 
the influence of Brygos, but was decorated by his very hand. It is thus one of the 
most important treasures in the Greek vase collection of the Boston Museum. 


7Cf. the satyr on the left of the fragment in Castle uted to Brygos. Several instances occur also on a cylix in 
Ashby (HArtwiG, Meisterschalen, Plate XXXIII, 2), attrib- the style of Duris (ibid., Plate LXVI). 


Ke) 





sopsug 4O AIALG AHL NI SOUVHINV() WOU NOISAC 





II f1v1g IA ‘SNOILVOITANg TVINNGOGG 


\) 





sopsug JO WIALG AHL NI SOUVHINV() Wout NOsad 


» 


\ 
\ 





III f1v1g TA ‘SNOILVOITAHOg TVINNZOIG 


" 


7a 





THE MEANING OF & tis oxqvis IN WRITERS OF 
THE FOURTH CENTURY 





THE MEANING OF émi tis oxnvis IN WRITERS OF THE 
FOURTH CENTURY 
Roy C. FLick1nGer 


THERE are several passages in Aristotle’s Poetics that are of great importance to 
the student of scenic antiquities, whatever his opinion may be regarding a raised stage 
in the Greek theater of the fourth century before Christ. They were brought into 
the controversy long ago, but the adherents of each theory have contented themselves 
with merely stating their own interpretation of the isolated point at issue, in opposition 
to that of their opponents, without careful analysis of the entire context in each case. 
Consequently no progress toward the complete understanding of these passages has 
been made. They were first cited as having a bearing upon the stage question by 
Mr. H. Richards, in the Classical Review, Vol. V (1891), p. 97: 

Before we accept Dr. Dérpfeld’s theory that the actors in a Greek theater performed in the 
orchestra, and not on the stage, some explanation ought to be forthcoming of certain passages in 
the Poetics of Aristotle, in which the contrary seems to be implied. Aristotle several times uses 
ext THS oKHVAS IM a Way very hard to reconcile with the new theory. ... . These passages (to 
which others of a similar kind could be added from later writers) appear to be decisive, unless 
any one will maintain that oxnv7 came to be applied to the orchestra or some part of it. But is 
there any evidence for that ? And, further, does not the word éxé imply something raised above 
the level? 


In 1895' Mr. F. B. Jevons, in the Gardner-Jevons Manual of Greek Antiquities, 
p. 678, wrote: “Aristotle repeatedly uses the phrase éml THs cxnvis, in which oxnvy 
ean scarcely mean the orchestra or any part of it, and émé naturally means ‘on’ and 
implies elevation ;” and M. Octave Navarre, in Dionysos, pp. 105 ff.: “Aristote dit que 
la tragédie ne peut pas représenter plusieurs événements a la fois, mais seulement ‘la 
partie de l’action qui s’accomplit sur la scéne et par les acteurs. a scéne est, on 
le voit, désignée de la fagon la plus nette comme le lieu affecté aux acteurs.”’ In the 
following year Dr. Emil Reisch,’ in Dérpfeld-Reisch, Das griechische Theater, pp. 
284 ff., published the following explanation : 

Wie die Schauspieler a6 oxyvjs kommen und sprechen, so bewegen sie sich in der Regel 
wahrend des Spieles.éat oxyvfjs, in der Nahe der Skene, ja haiifig genug bleiben sie auf den 
Stufen des Hauses oder in dem von den Paraskenien begrenzten Vorraum des Hauses. Daher 
kénnen sie kurzweg als of éxt cxynvps bezeichnet werden; doch ist zu bemerken, dass dieser 
Ausdruck niemals so wie of dé oxyvyjs im Gegensatz zum Chor gesagt wird, weil auch der Chor 


1In the Revue critique, Vol. XXVI (1892), p. 450, Mr. S. welche das Wort oxnv7 auf das gedielte podium, oder wenn 
Reinach referred to Mr. Richards’s argument with apparent man das nicht zugeben will, auf den Platz beschrankt, 
approval. Curis, ‘‘ Bedeutungswechsel einiger auf das auf dem gespielt wurde,” quoting Aristotle’s use. 
griech. Theater beziiglichen Ausdriicke,” Jahrb, f. class. 2Dr. Dorpfeld agrees with his collaborator in this; cf. 
Phil., Vol. CLL (1894), p. 39, said: ‘‘ Die vierte Bedeutung, ibid., p. 346. 


13 


4 MEANING OF él THS oxnYAS IN WRITERS OF THE FouRTH CENTURY 





haiifig in der Nahe der Skene zu thun hat. Es ist also damit durchaus nicht eine Scheidung der 
Schauspielpersonen beabsichtigt. 

Allerdings wiirde der Ausdruck ézi oxyvjs von den Schauspielern auch dann gebraucht 
werden kénnen, wenn der Vorraum vor dem Hause durch eine Bithne gebildet wiirde. Aber 
bloss aus diesem Ausdruck heraus lisst sich das Vorhandensein einer Biihne nicht erschliessen. 
Denn es ware natiirlich ein arger Fehlschluss, wenn man aus den Worten emi oxyvis und dod 
oxyvjs folgern wollte: cxyvy heisst “ Biihne.” . . . . Nach dem, was wir tiber die Bedeutung von 
oxnvy auseinander gesetzt haben, kénnen fiir éxt oxyvjs in der erwihnten typischen Verwendung 
(of oder ra éxt oxnvas) nur zwei Uebersetzungen in Betracht kommen: “auf dem Hause” und “bei 
dem Hause.” 

Die erstere Auffassung hatte selbst dann ihre Bedenken, wenn man in der Skene eine 
Biihne annehmen wollte, die wie die rémische Biihne einen integrirenden Bestandteil des 
Schauspielhauses gebildet hatte. Denn dann wiire eher die Wendung év oxyvy “in scaena” zu 
erwarten. Die zweite Auffassung dagegen hat alle sprachlichen Analogien fiir sich. Dass das 
Vorwort éxé (mit Genetiv, Dativ und Accusativ) nicht nur zur Bezeichnung von Héhenunter- 
schieden, sondern auch zur Bezeichnung der Nachbarschaft zweier auf gleichem Boden befind- 
licher Dinge verwendet wird, diirfte wohl bekannt genug sein. Aber es ist vielleicht nicht 
iiberfliissig, darauf hinzuweisen, dass éxé gerade mit den Bezeichnungen des Hauses sehr haiifig 
in diesem Sinne verbunden zu werden pflegt. .... Die Beispiele diirften geniigen, um zu der 
Annahme zu berechtigen, dass man die Wendung ézi oxyvjs urspringlich im Sinne von ézt 
oiktas “vor, bei dem Hause” gebraucht hat. Natirlich erhielt der Ausdruck dann sehr bald 
formelhafte Geltung und bezeichnet kurzweg: “auf dem (vor der Skene befindlichen) Spielplatz.” 


Mr. A. E. Haigh, in The Attic Theatre (2d ed., 1898), pp. 189 f., has said: 


Aristotle in many places speaks of the songs of the actors as ra a0 THs oKnvys, In Opposition 
to the songs of the chorus, 7a 70d xopod. Further, he speaks of the actor’s part as being played 
éxt tis oxyvps. According to the usual interpretation of these passages, he means that the 
actors played their part “upon the stage,” and sang their songs “from the stage.” Dérpfeld, 
however, proposes in these cases to translate the word oxnvy as the “background,” and not as 
the “stage.” He supposes Aristotle to mean that the actors performed “at the background,’ 
and sang their songs “from the background.” He denies that the two expressions imply the 
existence of a stage. Now, the translation that he suggests may be possible, as far as the Greek 
is concerned. But it is very difficult to believe that they are the right translations in these par- 
ticular passages of Aristotle. Aristotle’s words seem to clearly imply that there was some 
essential and conspicuous difference between the position of the actors and that of the chorus. 
But if, as Dorpfeld thinks, they all performed together in the orchestra, there would be no such 
distinguishing mark. It is true that the actors might, for the most part, be rather nearer the 
stage buildings; and the chorus might, for the most part, be rather more distant from them. 

3ut practically they would be standing in the same place; there would be no pronounced differ- 
ence. Aristotle’s words appear to be explicable only on the supposition that the actors appeared 
upon a stage, the chorus in the orchestra. 

More recently Professor A. Miller, “ Untersuchungen zu den Bihnenalterthimern,” 
Philologus, Supplementband VII (1899), pp. 6-12, wrote : 

Wir miissen derselben [7. e., Reisch’s view] jedoch unsere Zustimmung yersagen, da wir 
uns yerpflichtet fiihlen, auf Grund der folgenden Erérterung das Vorhandensein einer Biihne 
im attischen Theater als sicher anzunehmen. 


21t will be observed that Haigh’s ‘at the background” by no means accurately reproduces the Dorpfeld-Reiseh 
“auf dem Spielplatz.”’ 
14 


Roy C. FLIcKINGER 5 





Wir gehen davon aus, dass die Schauspieler ihren eigenthiimlichen Standort in der Nahe 
des Spielhauses hatten, und dass dieser durch die im Druck hervorgehobenen Worte der 
folgenden Stellen des Aristoteles bezeichnet wird, zu dessen Zeiten noch ebenso im Theater 
gespielt wurde, wie im V. Jahrhundert (S. Dorpf., S. 379). . . . . Giebt es nun Stellen, an denen 
Personen, welche sich von der Parodos aus zu dem gewohnlichen Standorte der Schauspieler 
begeben, einen Aufstieg, oder solche, welche vom gewéhnlichen Standorte der Schauspieler zur 
Parados gehen, einen Abstieg vornehmen miissen, so ist der Schluss geboten, dass jener 
Standort erhéht war. Und solche Stellen finden sich in den altesten Komédien des Aristophanes.* 
.... Wenn nun die vorstehende unbefangene Erérterung einiger aristophanischer Stellen und 
Scholien das Ergebniss geliefert hat, dass der gewohnliche Standort der Schauspieler erhoht 
war, und wenn bei Aristoteles die Schauspieler oi dxé oxyvis heissen, ihre Partie 76 émi cxyvijs 
und ihre Lieder ra azd oxnvjs genannt werden, so ist der Schluss gerechtfertigt, dass dieser 
erhéhte Standort eben oxyvy hiess. 


In the course of an investigation on the subject of the Greek theater and drama 
in the time of Plutarch I have found myself obliged to trace the history of the word 
oxnv7 from the earliest times in order to determine, as precisely as possible, its exact 
meaning everywhere, and particularly in such phrases as amd ths- oxnvas, emi TAS 
oxnyys, and é€v TH oxnvy, which occur with great frequency in the later literature. 
The subject itself is not a new one. The large collection of material brought together 
by Wieseler in 1870, in the Hrsch-Gruber Encyclopddie, Vol. IV, pp. 159 ff., s. v. 
“Griechisches Theater,” has furnished investigators in the field of scenic antiquities 
with a large proportion of their instances of the word’s use. Notable among these 
scholars are Christ,’ Miller,” and Reisch.’. The two former adhere, in the main, to the 
outline of the successive changes of meaning of oxnv7y laid down by Wieseler, while 
the last-named adopts an explanation consistent with the Dérpfeld theory of the stage, 
eliminating the meaning “stage”’ for the classical period of Greek literature. All of 
these scholars have contributed to the solution of the perplexing problem in a greater 
or less degree, but nevertheless all have, in my opinion, been too prone to classify 
their material en masse under convenient rubrics largely determined by their own 
position in the stage controversy, instead of subjecting each separate instance or 
category to a discriminating scrutiny, testing first the context in which the word 
oceurs and then ranging the instances appropriately in accordance with a strictly 
historical view of the development of the meanings of the word or the phrase. It so 
happens, therefore, that the same passage is often used by both parties to prove things 
exactly opposite, as is illustrated by the quotations given above concerning the 
Aristotelian usage. 

In the course of my study I became convinced that Aristotle’s use of the term, 


4Here follows a discussion of those passages in Aris- Fragen,” Jahr. f. class. Phil., Supplementband XIX (1893), 
tophanes that involve the use of dvaBaivew and similar pp. 699 f., 721. 


expressions. This phase of the subject has been already 5 Jahrb. f. Phil., Vol. CLL (1894), pp. 38 ff. 

sufficiently treated by Wain, “The ‘Stage’ in Aristoph- 6 Bithnenalterthtimer (1886) and Philologus, Supplement- 
anes,” Harvard Studies, Vol. II (1891), pp. 164 ff.; Capps, band VII (1899), pp. 3 ff. 

“The Stage in the Greek Theater,” Trans. Am Phil. Ass., 7 Zeitschrift f. d. ésterr. Gymnasien, Vol. XXXVIII (1887), 


Vol. XXII (1891), pp. 64 ff.; BoDENSTEINER, “‘Szenische pp. 276 ff., and Das griechische Theater (1896), pp. 283 ff. 
15 


6 MEANING OF é7i THS oxnVAS IN WRITERS OF THE FOURTH CENTURY 





so far as it extended, was quite consistent with that of Plutarch and his contempo- 
raries; in fact, that only by gaining a correct idea of the meaning of the phrases in 
question in Aristotle could one secure the right point of departure for the interpreta- 
tion of the idioms in Plutarch. The Aristotelian passages were first attacked in a 
discriminating way and made the basis of a general classification by Edward Capps, 
who, however, has published only an abstract of his conclusions.“ Approaching the 
subject originally from the point of view of Plutarch’s usage, I have found myself in 
substantial agreement with Professor Capps’s conclusions, and at his suggestion, and 
availing myself of his collections, with which he allowed me to supplement my own, 
and his constant criticism and advice, I have thought it well to state fully the case as 
far as concerns Aristotle, reserving for a later occasion the results of my studies in 
Plutarch and the later literature—except in so far as it may seem advisable to quote 
here later instances in illustration of the usage of the earlier period. I take this 
opportunity to acknowledge my obligations to all my predecessors in this field. 

Before the middle of the fourth century the phrases éxt rhs cxnvis and amo Ths 
oxnvys do not occur with reference to the theater. My excuse for restricting myself 
in the present paper to the consideration of the usage of a single period, the fourth 
century, is the overwhelming importance of that period for the stage question. From 
the fifth century we have a large number of extant plays, and practically no one now 
contends for the Vitruvian stage in that century.” From later times theater ruins are 
numerous, but for the fourth century itself our evidence is comparatively scanty. 
But the opponents of the Dérpfeld theory insist upon identifying the proscenium with 
the Vitruvian stage, and the extant remains which give positive evidence of a pro- 
scenium happen not to be earlier than the latter half of the fourth century. At about 
this time, therefore, as Haigh,” Bethe," and others” maintain, the actors, who had 
before this performed upon a low platform, were elevated suddenly to the full height 
of the proscenium. This could have been accomplished only by the sacrifice of the 
chorus, as the advocates of the high stage now clearly see; and they accordingly take 
refuge in the current but doubtful tradition, to the effect that the chorus was either 
given up altogether or “its functions were merely those of the modern band” or “of 
mere interlude-singers.” Exactly what changes in the drama this period witnessed has 
not yet been fully made out, and we cannot enter upon the chorus question here."* How- 
ever, even among those who accept Dr. Dorpfeld’s theory for the fifth century,” there is a 

8‘ Ent ras oxnvns and Similar Expressions,’ Am, Jour. 13 For the evidence in favor of the existence beyond the 
Arch., Vol. V (1901) p. 31. limits of the fourth century of both the tragie and the 
°Except Pucusrern, Die griechische Bihne, who comic chorus, see Capps, “The Chorus in the Late Greek 
announces in his preface that he disregards all evidence Drama,’ Am. Jour. Arch., Vol. X (1895), pp. 288 ff.; Leo, 
from the literary sources. In his review of this book, Rhein. Museum, Vol. LIL (1897), pp. 509 ff.; A. KOrrx, ** Das 


Classical Review, Vol. XV (1901), pp. 470 ff., Haigh seems Fortleben des Chors im griechischen Drama,” N. Jahrb. 
ready to abandon the position which he had consistently f. Phil., Vol. V (1900), pp. 81 ff.; Retscn, Das griech. 


maintained from the beginning. Theater, pp. 258 ff., and inthe Pauly-Wissowa Real-Encyclo- 
10 The Attic Theater 2, pp. 155 ff. piidie, Vol. Ii, Pp. 2402, 8. v. “Chor;” and Capps, Trans, 
11 Prolegomena zur Geschichte des Theaters im Alter- Am. Phil. Ass., Vol. XXXT (1900), pp. 133 f. 

thum, pp. 243 ff., and Gétt, gelehr. Anzeiger, 1897, pp. 726 ff. “Cf, Wurrp, Harvard Studies, Vol. II (1891), p. 167, 
12 Curis7, Sitzungsberichte der bayer. Akad. der Wissen- 20te 1; and Ropert, Hermes, Vol. XXXII (1897), p. 447, and 

schaften, 1894, pp. 26 f. in Gott. gelehr, Anzeiger, 1897, pp. 39 ff. 


16 


Roy C. FLicKINGER 7 








tendency to go over to Vitruvius for the period represented by the Lycurgus theater 
at Athens and by the theater at Epidaurus—the last quarter of the fourth century. 
In this dearth of evidence and abundance of conjecture anything bearing on the 
general question is of exceptional importance. But the subject of the present 
discussion is not merely important; though its bearing has been strangely overlooked, 
it is really fundamental. If ét tis oxnvis in Aristotle and his contemporaries means 
“on the stage,” and if éé in this phrase necessarily “implies elevation,” we need no 
more evidence—the great question is decided. 

For the subject under discussion much has been made of Plato,” Symposium, 
194b: émaAnopov pert’ dv env, &’AydOar, eireiv TOV Loxpdtyy, ef (dav THy ony avdpelav 





Kal peyarodpoctvnv avaBalvortos émt tov oxpiBavta peta TOV broKpLTay, Kal BréypavTos 
> , , t , > / n , Ny using ce mle: 
évavtia TocovTw Oedtpw, weAXOVTOS eridelEecOar cavTOd Adyous, Kai OVS OTwaTLODY EKTrA- 
/ fa} ’ IZ / oe € a ? / > , 
yévtos, vov oinOeinv oe OopuBnOnceaOar Evexa Huav Odiyov avOpwrrwr. 
I should be forgetful, Agathon, said Socrates, of the courage and spirit which you 
showed when your compositions were about to be exhibited, when you came upon the éxp/Bas with 


the actors and faced the whole audience altogether undismayed, if I thought you would on 
the present occasion be disturbed by a small company of friends. 


The scholiast on this passage, and Hesychius s. v. d«p(Pas, give this explanation: 
oxpiBas* Td Royeiov, ef’ ob} of tpaywdol nywvifovto* Twes bé KrAdrLBas TpLEKEAIs, Ef’ 0b 
fotavto of Umoxpital Kal Ta ex peTempov Aéyovo.v, and Timaeus, Lex. Plat., oxpiBas* 
Thyna TO év TO Ocatpw TiWeuevov, ep’ ob tatavto oi Ta Sypudova Aéyovtes. Evidently 
these writers had no clear idea of the word’s meaning. Moreover, the appearance of 
the poet with the actors shows that here we have to do, not with the ayov, but with 
the mpoayer," and that was held, not in the theater, but in the odeum. The passage, 
then, whatever its precise interpretation may be, is not relevant to the present discus- 
sion. In the present unsatisfactory state of our information regarding the Tpoayov, 
therefore, we are scarcely warranted in drawing sweeping conclusions from Plato’s 
reference to that ceremony. 

Aristotle uses the phrase él (tis) oxnvjs four times in the Poetics, viz.: (1) 
XIII, 6, p. 1458a; (2) XVII, 1, p. 1455a; (3) XXIV, 4, p. 14590; and (4) XXIV, 
8, p. 1460a; and Demosthenes uses it once (5) in Or., XIX, 337. I shall now con- 
sider these passages in turn. 

1. XIII, 6, p. 14534: 66 Kal of Edpueridn éyxadobvtes tod7 avto dpaptavovcw, 
ére ToOTO Spa ev Tais Tpaypdiais Kal ToAXal adTod els dvoTUXav TeeUTaTW, TodTO yap 
éotw &omep eipntar opOov, onpeiov S€ wéy.otov: ert yap TOV oKHVaY Kal TOV ayovev 

15 Of, A. MULLER, Bihnenalt., p. 365, notes 3,4, who gives 17 Other interpretations were reviewed and rejected by 
a list of previous authorities; also WIESELER, loc. cit., RHODE, Rhein. Mus., Vol. XXXVIII (1883), pp. 253 ff. It is 


p. 206, note 20; OkHMICHEN, Woch. f. klass. Phil., Vol. IX likely, too, that under the term vzoxprrai all of Agathon’s 
(1892), p. 1142; NAVARRE, op. cit., p. 106, note 2; and MULLER, performers were included, chorus as well as actors. Cf. the 


Philologus, Supplementband VII, p. 55, story told in the Vita Euripidis of Sophocles and his chorus 
16 Till the close of the fifth century the almost exclusive at the ™poayww after the news of Euripides’s death. 
meaning of @éatpov was “ audience ;”’ cf. WILAMOWITZ-MOL- 18 Cf. schol. Aeschines Ctesiphon. § 67. 


LENDORFF, Hermes, XXI (1886), pp. 602 f. 
17 


8 MEANING OF é7i THS oKnVAS IN WRITERS OF THE FouRTH CENTURY 








Tpayixorata ai Toadrar paivovta, av Katopbwhdaw, Kai 6 Edpiriéns ef kat ta adda wy 
eD olkovopel AAA TPAYLKOTATOS YE TOV TOLNTOV paiveTat, 

Aristotle has been saying that a well-constructed plot should be simple, and 
should imitate actions which excite pity and fear—the pity that is aroused by 
unmerited misfortune, the fear that is stirred by the misfortune of a man like our- 
selves, The reversal of fortune should, therefore, be from good to bad. The practice 
of the stage, he adds, bears out our view (onpetov dé Kai TO yeyvopevov), for tragedies 
nowadays are founded on the story of a few heroes whose fortunes illustrate this 
principle. The earlier poets had treated any legend, whatever the nature of the issue. 
A perfect tragedy, however, should be so constructed. He then adds: 

Hence they commit the same error [7.e., as the earlier poets] who censure Euripides just 
because he follows this principle in his plays, many of which end unhappily. It is, as we have 
said, the right ending. The best proof is that on the stage and in dramatic competitions such 
plays, if they are well represented, are the most tragic in effect; and Euripides, faulty as he is 
in the general management of his subject, yet is felt to be the most tragic of the poets.” 

In this chapter Aristotle finds confirmation of his statement of the principles of 
tragic composition in the practice of successful poets and in the effect that tragedies 
constructed according to his rules actually have upon the audiences. He appeals twice 
to the ‘practice of the stage,” as Butcher renders 70 yeyvopevov. The contrast is 
between plays which are technically perfect and those which, in spite of technical 
faults, do actually succeed in exciting the emotions of pity and fear. The test is the 
actual performance. There is no suggestion involving the work of the actors as 
opposed to that of the chorus. Assuming that they are well put on (av xatop@aOadawv), 
the plays of Euripides, with all their faults, are most effective when actually produced 
(éml tev oxnvav Kai Tov ayovov). The combination of cxnvav with ayovev shows 
that oxnvy has here the common meaning of “performance.” The phrase may be 
regarded as an example of hendiadys, and means nothing more or less than ‘‘at scenic 
contests.” This is precisely the meaning of the modern phrase employed by Butcher, 
‘‘on the stage and in dramatic competition’’; only we must not allow the modern 
connotation of ‘‘stage” as the actors’ platform to affect our interpretation of the 
Greek phrase, in which the work of the chorus is necessarily included. This point 
will be made clearer in the discussion of the other passages. In post-classical Greek 
another phrase is sometimes used in the same meaning—ézl Oedzpov, e. g., schol. 
Vesp. 1291: éyndicato 6 Kréov pnxeére Seiv kopmdias eri Oedtpov™ eicayerOar. “Cleon 
had a bill passed that no more comedies should be exhibited at spectacles.” To 
express this thought Aristotle would probably have said émt tiv oxnvny eiodyeo Oat. 

2. XVII, 1, p. 1455a: bet 6& rods piOouvs cumotdvar Kai TH rEEEL cUvaTrEpya- 
fecOat Ott padiota Tpod dupatav TiHeuEevov: ovTw yap av évapyéotata | 8 | opav wo7Tep 
map’ avtois yryvopevos Tois TpatTomevors evploKor TO TpéToV Kal HKLaTAa av NavOdvo. | TO | 
ra irevavtia. onpeiov dé rovTov 6 éretysato Kapxivo: 6 yap "Aududpaos é€& lepod avyet, 


19In translating the Poetics I have used Butcher’s ver- 20V, éwi Oedtpwv; R, éxi* cap; the others, émi ro Oeatpy, 
sion (2d ed.) with slight adaptations. 
18 


Roy C. FLICKINGER 9 





3 py opdvr’ advyrov | Oeatnv|” erdvOavev, eri dé Tihs oKnvijs eEerecev dvoxyepavavTwv 
TovTO TaV DeaTav. 

In constructing the plot and working it out with the proper diction, the poet should place 
the scene, as far as possible, before his eyes. In this way, seeing everything with the utmost 
vividness, as if he were a spectator of the action, he will discover what is in keeping with it, and 
be most unlikely to overlook inconsistencies. The need of such a rule is shown by the fault 
found in Careinus. Amphiaraus was on his way from the temple. This fact escaped the notice 
of the poet, who did not visualize the situation. On the stage, however, the piece failed, the 
audience being offended at the oversight. 

Since we have no knowledge of the plot of the play, the hint given by Aristotle 
is necessarily obscure. But the inconsistency that Carcinus overlooked is, neverthe- 
less, indicated with sufficient clearness. The poet had not, in constructing his plot, 
carefully worked out the language of his characters (77 éEer cuvarepydfecOa. 
Butcher’s “diction” is faulty) so that it should harmonize with their actions. Here 
Amphiaraus was on his way back from the temple, whither he had previously departed, 
but on his reappearance speaks of having come from somewhere else.” The contrast 
here is similar to that in the passage previously discussed —between the crucial test 
of the performance before spectators and the intrinsic merits of a play. There the 
practical success of Euripides is set over against defects in technique; here the prac- 
tical failure of Carcinus against the (implied) merits of his drama. When writing 
the play the poet, by failing to visualize his plot, overlooked an inconsistency; but 
when the play was performed (€7t tis oxnvis), it failed because of this small defect.” 
To introduce into the interpretation of this passage a reference to a stage for actors, 
as contrasted with the orchestra for the chorus, is to violate common sense and reason. 
Here also oxnvy stands for the theater itself; évt tAs oxnvis is equivalent to the later 
érl Tov Pedtpov, and means, by metonomy, ‘‘at the performance.” An excellent parallel 
is found in Plutarch, Moralia, p. 845a: (Anuoo@evns ) exrecav dé ror’ ert Tis ExKANT las. 

3. XXIV, 3, 4, p. 1459b: dapepea b€ Kata te THs cvaTdcEws TO pKOS 1 érroTrOLia 


21The emendation of Gomperz for opavra tov Oeatny of H. DtntzEr, Rettung der Arist. Poetik, p. 177, saw the 
the manuscripts. A careful examination of the context point correctly, though vaguely, but found an impossible 
shows that the poet, not the spectator, was blamed for contrast between ¢€& tepood and émt oxyvys. TEICHMULLER, 
overlooking the inconsistency. The phrase opwv.... Arist. Forschungen, Vol. I, 104 f., read @caryv, and thought 
yKota AavOavor applies to him, and its echo, py opavta ... - the spectators were offended because they did not see the 
éAavOavev, naturally does the same. Dacier saw the proper return of Amphiaraus from the temple actually represented 
application, and read romryy for Gearyv, which Susemihl before their eyes instead of being merely described. But 
adopted. Butcher brackets Tov Gearyv, but the passage then that would not have involved a vzevavriov. Gomperz in 
lacks the definite reference to Carcinus that is required. Aristoteles Poetik (1897), p. 111, suggests that the appear- 
Vahlen’s conjecture, opavr' avy, though perhaps easiest to ex- ance in another role of the actor who played Amphiaraus’s 
plain palwographically, breaks down at the same point. part while he was supposed to be absent offended the 
Gomperz’s emendation gives the evident meaning of the audience. But this occurred in nearly every play. 


passage, and from it the present reading could easily have 23 Euripides, on the contrary, is commended for his care 
been derived by some scribe’s writing Tov #earyv between the in such details, viz., for telling the audience whence a char- 
lines as a comment on avtov, which he misunderstood. acter comes and whither he is going. The opening line of 


22 This is better than to assign the error to faulty stage the Troades is a case in point: “"Hxw Atray Atyatov aAnupov 
management, e. g., that Amphiaraus made his exit through Baos, where the scholiast remarks: 6Aos emi tov Beatpov o 
one of the parodoi, and then on his return entered from Evpumidys. ‘* Euripides was wholly intent upon, 7. e., was 
the building represented by the proscenium. Susemihl, ever thoughtful of, his audience.” Cf, PLUTARCH, Moralia, 
pp. 254, 162b (2d ed.), frankly confessed ignorance of the p. 342b ; (Alexander, entertaining the Persian ambassadors), 
fault involved; WELCKER, Die griechischen Tragédien, Vol. ovdev ppwra madixov, . . . . GAA’ OAOS Ev TOLs KUPLWTATOLS HY THS 
II, p. 1065, brought nothing of value to the discussion. jyenovias; and Horace, Sat., I., 9, 2: totus in illis. 


19 


10 MEANING OF él THS oxnVAS IN WRITERS OF THE FouRTH CENTURY 











kal TO péTpov, Tod pev ovY pHKOVS Gpos ikavos 6 Elpnuevos: Sivacbar yap Set cvvopacbar 
Tv apynv Kal TO Tédos. ein & Av TOUTO, EL TOY pev apxalwv EXdTTOUS ai dvoTACELS EleEL, 
mpos 6€ 70 TAOS Tpayodiav Tay eis wiav axpoacw TiWEnevwev TraprHKorev, Eyer 5é TpOs TO 
érrexteiver Oat TO péyeHos ToAU TL 7 erroTroLia id.ov dia TO ev pev TH Tpay@dia pn évBéxer Oat 
dua mpattomeva ToAAa meépyn pipeicOar GAA TO eri THS oKNVAS Kal TOY UTroKpLT@V wEpos 
povov, év 5€ TH erroTroLia Ova TO Ouynow elvar EoTL TOAAA MEépy Gua TroLely TrEpaLvopeEVa, 

Epic poetry differs from tragedy in the scale on which it is constructed, and in its metre. 
As regards scale or length, we have already laid down an adequate limit: the beginning and the 
end must be capable of being brought within a single view. This condition will be satisfied by 
poems on a smaller scale than the old epics, and answering in length to the group of tragedies 
presented at a single sitting. Epic poetry has, however, a special capacity for enlarging its 
dimensions, and we can see the reason. In tragedy we cannot imitate several actions carried on 
at one and the same time; we must confine ourselves to the action on the stage and the part 
taken by the players. But in epic poetry, owing to the narrative form, many events simul- 
taneously transacted can be presented. 

A tragic plot is restricted as to time and place, 7. e., it cannot represent more 
than one event at a time. Now to represent simultaneous events we need several 
groups of characters and as many places for their action. But tragedy can present 
but one group of characters at a time acting in but one place, viz., that represented in 
the scenery of the theater. Whenever in a play the scene of action has once been 
localized, there it must remain, and no performers can be introduced inconsistent with 
this location. Now the chief cause of this restriction was the chorus. Its constant 
presence effectually prevented the tragic poet from shifting the scene of action, as the 
epic poet could readily do in his narrative, and as the modern dramatic poet, freed 
from this serious limitation, can do without violating the laws of his art. The fifth- 
century dramatists keenly felt the restraint put upon them and tried to gain a larger 
freedom. Adschylus in the Humenides, Sophocles in the Ajax, Euripides in the 
Alcestis, Aristophanes in the Thesmophoriazusae, and the unknown author of the 
Rhesus succeeded in removing the chorus for a moment while the scene was changed; 
but they could not introduce a new set of characters in the new scene, because the 
traditions of the drama imposed upon the poet a single chorus for each piece. The 
utmost that the poets did in this direction was done in the early period of tragedy, 
when chorus and actors changed their characters between the longer episodes—an 
arrangement from which developed the group of four plays forming a tetralogy. 
Aristotle, of course, did not dream of a tragedy without a chorus, and in formulating 
the laws which govern this branch of the imitative art, accepting the chorus as an 
essential part of tragedy, simply defined the conditions which arise from its presence. 
It is evident, therefore, that under the term o¢ vrroxpitad he had in mind all of the 
performers concerned in representing the action which the poet brings before our eyes, 
the chorus as well as the actors.“ The restriction as to the performers which the 


24 Cf. Note 17 above, and Triclinius’s scholium to the Jahr. f. class, Phil., Vol. VIL (1875), p. 432: mevrexaidexa cioiv 
Agamemnon, quoted by WECKLEIN,” Studien zu Euripides,” oi rod tpay.xod xopod vroxpirai, 


20 


Roy C. FLICKINGER 11 








tragic poet can introduce into a given plot is, however, only an incident of the limita- 
tion —imposed by the constant presence of the chorus—as to the place of action. 
To this consideration, therefore, Aristotle properly gives the precedence — de@ wipeic Oar 
TO émi THS oKNVAS pépos. Out of the many actions going on at the same time which 
the epic poet may draw into his narrative, the tragic poet must select that one which 
takes place at the scene of action determined upon at the outset. To make clearer the 
necessity of the poet’s confining himself to this one scene, Aristotle adds the second 
item —xal 7d Tov vroKpiTav wépos. We might properly render the sentence under 
consideration thus: ‘‘ But he must confine himself to that portion of the story that is 
defined by the scene of action chosen and that falls to the performers appropriate to 
this scene.” Emi rijs oxnvijs here again might have been replaced by the later phrase 
ért Tov Oeatpou, and, far from referring to the place where the actors stood, manifestly 
embraces all who are concerned in the dramatic representation. 

4, XXIV, 8, p. 1460a: Se? pev ody ev tais tpaywdias roiv ro Oavpactov, 
padrov & évdexerar ev TH erroTrotia TO ddoyov, bv’ d cupBaiver wadiota TO OavpacTor, dra 
TO pn opay eis TOV TpdTTOVTA* eel TA TEpl THY” ExTopos Siwkw emt oxnvns dvTa yedoia av 
pavein, of wev Ecta@tes Kal ov Si@kovTes, 6 S avavevar, év Sé Tois Erecw RavOaver. 

The element of the wonderful is admitted in tragedy. The irrational, on which the wonder- 
ful depends for its chief effects, has wider scope in epic poetry, because there the person acting 
is not seen. Thus, the pursuit of Hector would be ludicrous if placed upon the stage—the 
Greeks standing still and not joining in the pursuit and Achilles waving them back. But in 
the epic poem the absurdity passes unnoticed. 


Aristotle is evidently thinking of Iliad, XXII, 205 f.: 


Aaoiaw 8 avéveve kapnarte dios ’AyirXevs, 
ovo? éa tépevar ert “Extope mixpa Bédeuva, 


and is trying to show why a scene that was excellent in an epic could not be drama- 
tized. In Homer there are two groups of characters: (a) Achilles and Hector, and 
(b) the Greek army. They are all Uroxperaé (‘‘performers”) in the sense in which 
the author used that term in the preceding passage. In Aristotle’s imaginary drama- 
tization of this incident these groups represent the actors (0 dé) and the chorus (oé 
pev) respectively. In the epic account of the pursuit the episode seems natural, for 
the picture placed before our eyes is on an heroic scale, and we do not find ourselves 
offended by minor picturesque, if incongruous, details; but ‘‘on the stage,” “auf der 
Bahne,” “sur la scéne,” 7. e., in dramatic representation, it appears ridiculous. The 
contrast is once more perfectly plain, and if we should try to restrict the meaning of 
oxnvn to an elevated “stage,” a place for actors alone, we should then have to explain how 
both actors and chorus are here included under that phrase. 

It is fortunate that so many fourth-century examples of the use of émt Tis oxnvis 
are preserved by so careful and accurate a writer as Aristotle, and in passages that 
yield satisfactory results upon analysis. The sole instance of its occurrence in 

21 


12 MEANING OF éml THS OxNYVAS IN WRITERS OF THE FOURTH CENTURY 








Demosthenes is so colorless that any attempt at deriving from such a passage a satis- 
factory conception of the phrase’s meaning would have been vain; yet, now that from 
other sources we have gained a suitable meaning, the usage there is found to accord 
with it. For the proper understanding of such passages, therefore, these Aristotelian 
examples are of inestimable worth. 

5. Demosthenes, Or., XIX, 337: kairo. Kat Tepi ths hovns tows eireiy avayKn. 
mavu yap péya Kali érl tavtn hpoveiv adtov ako’, ws KabuTroKpivovpevoy vas. epuol dé 
doxei?’ atorwtatov amdvtwy av Toinoat, él, OTE wEV TA OveoTov Kai TeV él Tpola Kaka 
nyovitero, exeBarrer’ avtov kal éLecupitter’ ex Tov Oedtpwv Kal povov ov KaTedevel? 
oUTwS, @TTE TEAEUT@VTA TOV TpPLTAYoUVLOTELY ATOoTHVAL, eTrEL6n O OvK él THS TKNVAS GAR’ 
év Tols KOWots Kal meylaTOLS TIS TOAEWS TrPaYMacL pUpU ElpyacTaL KAKA, THULKADO’ WS KaAOV 
bbeyyoueva Tpocéxorte, 

And yet, perhaps, I must speak also about his voice, for I understand that he is very proud 
of that, too, presuming that he will overpower you by his acting. It appears to me, however, 
that it would be an act of extreme absurdity on your part, if, when he played the miseries of 
Thyestes and the heroes at Troy, you drove and hissed him from the theater and all but stoned 
him, so that he finally retired from playing his third-rate parts, yet now, when not merely in 
dramatic performances, but in public and most momentous affairs of the state, he has wrought 
endless miseries, you should pay attention to him as a fine speaker. 

Demosthenes is calling attention to the different scenes of Aschines’s failures, 
which were not confined to his theatrical efforts but extended to his public career as 
well. Est 79s oxnvijs has no more definite application to his standing-place as an 
actor in the theater than é« tay Oeadtpwy above, or than év Avovicou in Or., V, 6, 7: 
mdadw Tolvuv, @ avopes AOnvaior, katid@v NeorToXewov Tov UTroKpLTNY . . . . KaKa epya- 
fdpevov Ta péyioTa THY TokW ... . TapeAOwy eimov eis Yas. ... . Kal ovKeTL ev 
TovToLs aiTiacopar Tors Umep NeomToXeuov A€yovTas aAN avtovs vpyas. ef yap év Avovvcov 
tpaywoous eOeacacbe, AXAA pr TEL GwTHPLas Kat KOWaV TPAayLaTwY Hv 6 AOYOS, OvK av 
ovtws oUT exeivou Tpos yapiv ovT’ euod mpos aTéyOeav nKovoaTe; or than év Geatpw in 
Theophrastus, Charact., XI: 6 Bdedupos tovodtos ofos . . . . €v Oedtpw Kporeiv, drav ot 
adAo. TavovtTar Kal cupittew ovs 7b€ws Bewpodow ot Aovrot, Though év Acovicou and 
év Oedtpw may include both performers and spectators, while é7i THs oxnvqs is restricted 
to the former, none involves specific reference to any particular part of the theater. 

These are the only examples of the phrase in the extant literature of the fourth 
century. I add a few later instances which illustrate the same usage: schol. Thesm., 
101: pov@de? 6’Ayd0av ws pos Yopov, ody ws él oKNVTS,” AXN ws Troinpata ouvTLbe’s, 
id Kal yopica A€yer “EAH avTOs Tpos abrov, ws yopucd bé. ‘“ Agathon sings a solo as 
though he were addressing a chorus, not as if he were in the theater, but as com- 
posing verses [at home]. Accordingly, he says also the choral parts all to himself, 
though still as choral parts.” Lucian, Apol., 5: o? [i. e., tragic actors] éwl meév Tis 
cenvns Ayapeuvov Exactos 1) Kpéwv i) adtos “Hpaxar‘s eiow, é&m d€ Lado 7) "Apirtodnpmos 

yiyvovrat, ‘At dramatic performances in the theater each of the tragic actors 


2% dro oxnvns, the manuscripts. 


22 


Roy C. FLIcKINGER 13 








is Agamemnon or Creon or Heracles himself, but outside of the theater he is simply 
himself.” Arg. Kurip. Orestes: 70 dpapa tov ért oxnvis ebdoxipovvtav, yelpiotov be 
Tots 70eor. The “staging” of a Greek play obviously included the place of the chorus 
as well as that of the actors. Plutarch, Moralia, p. 785b: Pirjpeva 6€ tov Kopixov Kal 
"Anretwv eri TAS oxnvas ayoulopévous Kal atepavoupevous 6 Oavatos KatéAaBe. ‘Death 
seized Philemon and Alexis while they strove successfully in the theater.” Of course, 
in this instance there is no mention of actors at all, but of poets who were contestants 
in the theater with their plays. Libanius, Praefat. ad Demosth., 2: iotépnrar yap 
twa Batarov ’Edéo.ov avrAntnv yevéobat, ds mparos trodnpact yuvarKelous ert THs cKNVAS 
eypnoato. “ Batalus [as his effeminacy caused him to be nicknamed, though his name 
was really Tigranes; cf. schol. A’schines, I, 126], the Ephesian flute player, was 
the first to wear women’s sandals at a performance in the theater.” In the Greek 
theater flute players performed in the orchestra.” Though Libanius may have had in 
mind the custom of the Roman theater, more probably he was simply quoting the 
words of a much earlier writer. Plutarch, Moralia, p. 837e: ayouorn yap jyepovias 
VITOKPLTHVY ETELANYAYE, LAAAOV O€ WS err oKNVAS TO Siddnwa Koon SicENAOE THS olKovpevns. 
“For he brought in against his opponent one to play the role of power, but as ina play 
a ‘mute’ took the part of ruler of the world.” Ibid., p. 709d: aAra bet cKoreiv 
TpOToV TIS OKAN@Y €oTLY, EL ev yap ov adodpa cuVHOys, AAN 7) TOV TrOVTlwY TIS F 
TATPATIKAY, WS ETL oKHVAS SopupoprmaTos AamTTpOD Sedpevos i) Tavy yapilecOat TH KAroEL 
TETELT MEVOS Kal TLMaY, eTaYyeTAL, TapatTnTéos evOUs. ‘But it is necessary in the first 
place to see who gives the invitation. For if it is no one very intimate, but someone 
of either wealth or power 
suite, or is convinced that he is bestowing favor or honor by the invitation— one must 





one who needs, as at a dramatic performance, a splendid 


ask at once to be excused.” Lbid., p. T91e: 6 & worrep érl cxnvis Sopudopnua Kapov Hv 
dvoua Baoireos. “As ina play, Aridaeus was a ‘mute’ escort of power, a nominal king.” 

Now a7é with the genitive is the counterpart of éwé with the genitive. There- 
fore, if é7é means “on top of,” @a7¢é means “from on top of;” but if éré conveys no 
implication of elevation and means simply ‘‘at,”” then ad denotes merely motion, or 
derivation, from.” Now in the phrase under discussion, é7t TAs cxnvis, we have found 
that oxnvy, which in its earlier usage meant a specific part of the theater structure, 
was used by metonomy for the whole performance-place. Meaning originally the 
booth used by the performers in dramatic exhibitions, then the structure that served 
not only as a dressing-room, but also as the scenic background (cf. the term oxnvo- 
ypapia, which occurs first in Aristotle), the enlarged, tropical meaning was a perfectly 
natural development when the “performance-place” to be designated was the place for 
dramatic exhibition. For any other kind of exhibition in the theater, for example the 
dithyramb, in which the o«nv) structure had no part, érl tis oxnvis would scarcely 
have been an appropriate designation of the place of the performance, but rather 


26 Of, Phrynichus, RUTHERFORD, New Phrynichus, p. 250. oxnvy, is found in THEOCRITUS, XV,16: Pixos ard axavas ayo- 
27 An illustration, which happens to involve the word paadwv. The pixos was to be had emi oxavas, “at the shop.” 


23 


14 MBEANING OF é€mt THS cKNnVAS IN WRITERS OF THE FouRTH CENTURY 





éml ris OupéArns (7. e., opxnotpas). Consequently of émi Tis cxnvis, or the later term, 
oxnvirat, embraced all of the participants in a dramatic representation— troxpital, 
xopds, TonTys, Xopnyos, and dddcxadros—as did tpay@doi at an earlier period. Now 
if it were desired to distinguish between the two kinds of dramatic performers, since 
ot émt (or, from a different point of view, amo) THs Ovpédys was already used of the 
dithyrambic chorus and could not possibly be applied to the actors, that term would 
naturally be used to designate the dramatic chorus as well, and o¢ émt (amo) Tis oxnvijs 
would be used in the restricted sense for the actors alone. It was thus, in my opinion, 
that the distinction arose between the two phrases, rather than because the oxnv7 was 
the place par excellence for the actors, as is generally assumed on the basis of the 
dictum of Pollux. One would naturally expect that of émt ths oxnvis and of amo Tis 
oxynvns would assume the meaning “actors” contemporaneously, though, as a matter 
of fact, Aristotle uses only the latter in the new sense and retains the old meaning of 
the former. It is fortunate that this so happened, otherwise it would be impossible to 
trace the phrase’s history with any degree of certainty. Probably the fact that the 
oxnvn was thought of as the home of the actors, as Reisch has pointed out, accounts 
for the use of amd 775 oxynvys in the new meaning before ert tHs oxnvys. In the 
development of their meanings, and the differences between them at any particular 
time, these phrases are precisely paralleled by of oxnmxod and of Ovpedixot. In other 
words, cxnvixes was first used to distinguish dramatic from other performers in the 
theater, and later, following the course of development above indicated for ot émt r7s 
oxnvns, came to be applied to actors alone. Of course, when a raised “stage” was 
introduced, such an application of these expressions was doubly appropriate,* because 
the local distinction was emphasized — not, however, because é7t implies elevation. 
We are now in a position to estimate properly the phrase ao rs oxnvys in 
Aristotle. In two passages, which may be un-Aristotelian, aro (77s) oxnvys is used 
of the lyrical utterances of actors. Poetics, XII, 1, 1452b: kowa peéev amdvtev 
tadta, lia 6€ TA ATO THS oKHYAS Kal Koupor. “These |i. e. prologue, episode, exodos, 
and chorie song] are common to all plays, peculiar to some are the xéupoe and the 


songs of the scenic performers.” 


Thid., XII, 2: koppwos b€ Opyvos Kowds yopod Kat 
<tHv> aro oKnvyns. ‘A kommos is a dirge by both the chorus and the scenic perform- 
ers.” Cf. also Aristotle’s Problem., XV, 918b: 1o 6b€ ado aituoy Kal dot Ta pév 
amo THS TKNVAS OvK aVvTioTpopa, TA SE TOU Yopod avTiatpopa; ibid., XXX, 920a: dua 
rl ovde UrodwpioTl ode UrodpuyiaTl ovK EoTW ev Tpaywdia yYopLKoV; GAN aro 
P Puy (PERE YPUEODS 5 3 oc 
cKnVAS, plpntixn yap; ibid., XLVIII, 922b: tadra 6€ dudw yopm pév avdppoota, 
Tois 6€ amo oknVNS olKEOTEpAa* EeKElVOL Mev YAP HpwMav pipyntat, The use of xopos, 
xopixov, etc., in these passages gives to the phrase ao (Ts) cxnvys the restricted 
meaning desired. As soon as the “choral” element is taken out, ‘‘scenic” must refer 


to the actors alone, although, strictly speaking, both chorus and actors were included in 


28 Of. the recent controversy—arising from FREr’s disser- Bethe and Dorpfeld in Hermes, Vol. XXXVI (1901), pp. 597 ff., 
tation, De Certaminibus Thymelicis, Basel, 1900 — between and ibid., Vol. XX XVII (1902), pp. 249 . and 483 ff, 


24 


Roy C. FLickinNGER 15 





the term “scenic.” Cf. Demosthenes, XVIII, 180: (ovr) oe 6€ pd ipo Tov 
tuyovta (00), GAA ToUT@Y TWA THY ATO THS oKNYNS, KpecpovtTny 7) Kpéovta 7%) dv ev 
Kodadvut@ tote Olvdpaov Kaxas vTroKpivopevos éerrétprpas. ‘Do you want me to count 
you as no ordinary hero, but as one of these ‘scenic’ performers, Cresphontes: or 
Creon or Ginomaus, whom once upon a time, at Collytus, you ‘murdered’ with your 
bad acting ?” This fling was directed at Auschines, whose ill luck as an actor of tragic 
roles was notorious. 

Finally, both those who insist that é7t with the genitive invariably “implies 
elevation,” and their opponents who claim that it means “before,” are equally led 
astray by the exigencies of the argument. Reisch, in the statement quoted above: 
“Dass das Vorwort é7i (mit Genetiv, Dativ und Accusativ) nicht nur zur Bezeich- 
nung von Héhenunterschieden, sondern auch zur Bezeichnung der Nachbarschaft 
zweier auf gleichem Boden befindlicher Dinge verwendet wird, dirfte wohl bekannt 
genug sein,” proposes to cut the Gordian knot of the most perplexing word in the 
language in a manner that will satisfy but few. Only a small proportion of the 
examples that he cites are of any value to the present discussion. Let us consider 
the following passages: In two instances oxnvy has its untechnical meaning of 
“tent”: Plutarch, Brutus, 45: wAnyais KodacGevtas ext oxnvys |before, or at, 
the commander’s quarters| yupvods arodo0jvat tots otpatnyois TOV ToAEuiov; and 
Arg. Soph. Ajax: catarxauBadver’AOnva’Odvocea eri THs oKnvAS OvomTEvoVTA Ti TOTE apa 
mpatte. In three cases ér¢é is used in connection with the scenic background. Arg. 
Soph. Antigone: trecertar b€ Ta mpdypata ent Tov Kpéovtos Bacidetwv; schol. Soph. 
Trach. 1275: én’ oikov; and Arg. Aristoph. Equites: éouxe | se. Anuoobevns | ws ert oikias 
dectroTiKHs TovtcOat Tov Adyov. And in still two other instances it is used in connection 
with the spectators: schol. Eurip. Troad., 1: 6dos éwit Tob Oedtpou 6 Kippur dys, and schol. 
Eurip. Hippol., 524: ra 6€ dada, & fpova, apkéoer trois Evdov dinyjoacat pirows, droid 
ott, Kal pr) el TavT@Y Kai él Tov Pedtpov TavTa exdépav, ‘The nature of my otier 
plans it will suffice to relate to my friends within, and not to disclose them before the 
whole audience.” 

In dealing with this matter Professor Gildersleeve shrewdly observes: 

In the vast majority of instances éxé with the genitive denotes characteristic superposition 
and it may still denote superposition in such standing expressions as él réyous, én’ oiknparos. 
.... Any form of superposition will answer the conditions —a rest in front, a step in the door- 
way..... Dr. Forman... . adduces an interesting example, Demosthenes, LVIII., 40: et 
tov Sixastyplov Kal rod Bypatos, in which éx/ retains enough literalness for the second member. 
But, whatever the local exigencies may be, the phraseological, the adjectival character of the com- 
bination is unmistakable. of éxi oxyvis as a technical term is simply of oxyvira, the “hutmen.” 
The rarity of éxé with the genitive of mere proximity in the best period, the large possi- 
bilities of the “upon” element even then— all this is abundantly shown in Dr. Forman’s disser- 
tation. That dé ris oxnvas is more common than ot éxt oxyvas, a fact on which Reisch lays 
great stress, is a very simple matter. "Ad oxnvas is éxt oxyvas from a different point of view- 
Sporadic examples in which éxé with the genitive seems to mean “before” do not strengthen the 
okyvy argument, which may quietly repose cn the phraseological use of éré. “On the playhouse 

25 


16 MEANING OF éml THS oKHnYAS IN WRITERS OF THE FOURTH CENTURY 





side” is all the theory demands, and the phrase was fixed long before the time of the earliest 
passage cited.” 

*Exé does not necessarily and always mean “upon.” When oxnv7) means “tent,” 
érl THS oknYNS Means not ‘‘on the tent,” but ‘near,’ “at,” or “before” it. In its 
original theatrical use the phrase meant, as Professor Gildersleeye so aptly expresses 
it, ‘on the playhouse side,” and referred to the space before and in the vicinity of the 
scene building. In its fourth-century usage it always pointed a contrast; in some 
cases it indubitably included the chorus in its application, while it never expressly 
excluded it. In fact, it had no more definiteness of reference than év T@ OedTpo. 
Those who translate the phrase by ‘‘on the stage” use a perfectly legitimate English 
expression that reproduces fairly well the original, but they violate their scholarship 
and their native tongue when they try to force into the ancient phrase a meaning that 
is incidental in the history of the modern expression. 


29 Gildersleeve’s notice of FORMAN’s dissertation ‘‘On Used to Denote Superposition,’ Am. Jour. Puil., Vol. 
the Ditference between the Genitive and Dative with ex XVIII (1897), p. 120. 


26 


THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 


" 





THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA IN RELA- 
TION TO HISTORY AND TO ENCOMIUM 


GrorGe Lincotn HENDRICKSON 


Ir has been the defect of much which has been written in the effort to explain the 
literary form of the Agricola of Tacitus, that each student has seized upon some single 
aspect of the work and, discerning the analogy of this part to some phase of encomiastic, 
biographical, or historical literature, has sought in this direction to find the key to 
the composition of the work as a whole. So, for example (to take two or three illus- 
trations), Hiibner' endeavored to identify the Agricola with the Roman laudatio 
funebris, and found naturally not a little that supported his contention, in fact more 
than was conceded by most of his critics, who seemed unwilling to allow the qualifica- 
tions with which he guarded his contention. More recently, Professor Gudeman® has 
sought to demonstrate that the Agricola corresponds exactly to the rhetorical rules for 
formal encomium, especially as set forth in the type of imperial panegyric known as 
the Baowdsxos Adyos. The effort at special identification was in both cases erroneous, 
and depends upon certain elements which the Agricola has in common with works of 
the two literary forms named. Again Andresen,’ led by a certain formal resemblance 
between the manner of historiography and the form of the chapters extending from the 
description of Britain (10) to the end of Agricola’s proconsulate (39), pronounced this 
section a preliminary fragment of the Histories, and denied to it any biographical 
character whatever. 

It has remained for Professor Leo, in his masterly sketch of ancient biographical 
literature,’ to furnish the proper setting for the Agricola, and to trace the history of 
that encomiastic biography which in Greek and in Roman literature had its own deyel- 
opment, related to and yet distinct from such types of formal encomium as the laudatio 
Junebris or the BacidKos AXoyos. The long history of this literary form, with its multi- 
tude of tributary influences, cannot here be reviewed. In criticism of Leo’s general 
conclusions, I should only wish to see emphasized somewhat more distinctly the influ- 
ence which the Roman national custom of the laudatio funebris must have had upon 
giving to the biographies of friends or relatives recently deceased a marked encomiastic 
character. The laudatio funebris was pure encomium, and differed in no essential 
respect from the Greek theory and practice of encomium; for it is obvious that the 
funeral oration, not less than political and forensic eloquence, passed entirely into the 
sphere of theory prescribed by Greek rhetoric. But in Greek literature encomium 


1 Hermes, Vol. I (1866), p. 439. cola,’ Festschrift des Gymnasiums zum Grauen Kloster 
2Edition of the Agricola, Boston, 1900. (Berlin, 1874), pp. 293 ff. 
3“Die Entstehung und Tendenz des taciteischen Agri- 4 Die griechisch-rémische Biographie, Leipzig, 1901. 


29 


4 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 








was one of the progenitors of biography, and biography is frankly recognized by 
Polybius® as legitimately encomiastic, in contrast to the objective truth of history. 
Thus, whether from the Roman institution of the laudatio funebris, or from the analogy 
of Greek prototypes (or from both sources), the Roman biographies of deceased 
contemporaries were professedly laudatory. 

It is not, however, to criticise the general results of Leo’s investigations, but to 
express a partial dissent from his conclusions concerning the Agricola, that the follow- 
ing pages have been written—and written, it may be said frankly, with some inward 
reluctance against entering the field of so endless a discussion." But no question is 
settled until it is settled right, and the very correctness of Leo’s assignment of the 
Agricola to its general place in the history of biography is a legitimate incentive to 
expressing disagreement with a detail of his treatment—a detail, however, of no 
mean proportions, since it has to do with considerably more than half of the life. 
It concerns, as my title indicates, that part of the treatise which narrates the deeds of 
Agricola’s proconsulate in Britain, together with the introductory survey of the geog- 
raphy and ethnology of the island and its conquest down to the time of Agricola’s advent. 
These chapters, says Leo (p. 231), “are treated in a manner which removes them 
from the character of biography. This fact has of course often been observed, and 
attention has been called to it by many, especially by Andresen. To be sure, the 
narrative has reference to Agricola, and from chapter 15 on he is the leading figure, 
but not otherwise than a commander would be in any military history.” 

Nevertheless, there remain certain very essential differences between the greater 
part of this narrative and the usual manner of historiography (as employed by Tacitus 
himself, by Livy or Sallust), which make it incorrect, I believe, to affirm that this 
portion of the work is, in its essence, historical, or analogous to any historical narrative 
in which a commander plays a similar leading réle. 


Before turning to the analysis of the campaigns of Agricola, I shall consider 
briefly two introductory points which have a direct bearing on my main argument, 
although they lie outside of the portions of the text which I have here chosen for 
discussion. 

Non tamen pigebit vel incondita ac rudi voce memoriam prioris servitutis ac testi- 
monium praesentium bonorum composuisse. Hic interim liber honort Agricolae soceri 
met destinatus, professione pietatis aut laudatus erit aut excusatus (chap. 3, extr.). 
It seems to be held very generally that this statement places the Agricola in relation- 
ship to the Histories as a preliminary work of a similar kind.’ But if these words 


5X, 21 (24), 8 (cited below, p. 25). sein erstes Werk, dessen ungebildete Sprache er bei den 
® Although Professor Leo’s work is the immediate  kinftigen Lesern desselben entschuldigen zu miissen 
stimulus to the present publication, yet the essential out- glaubt; der Agricola ist nur ein Vorlaufer, eine Vorstudie, 
lines of this study were formulated several years ago, and — oder wenn man will, geradezu ein Theil der Historien.” 
first presented in academic lectures of the autumn of 1899. The general tendency of interpretation may be seen from a 
7 Andresen’s is the most extreme form of this view (loc. few typical utterances: ‘“‘ Hoc libro ut dignissimo exordio 


cit., p. 301): “ Die Historien betrachtet er in der That als historica auspicatus est, etc.’”’ (HAaasE, Tac. op., I, xix). 


30 


GroRGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 5 





be so interpreted, it surely must be for reasons other than the grammatical sense which 
they yield. For without attaching any peculiar meaning to interim, does the passage, 
in fact, say anything more than that in the meantime, before the publication of a 
historical record of the period through which they have just passed, this work is put 
forth honori soceri mei destinatus? That the present work (hic liber) stands in any 
relation of kind to the promised one is in no way conveyed by the grammatical form 
of the sentence. Whatever relationship is suggested between the character of the two 
works lies implicit in the quasi-technical terminology, memoriam (history) and honori 
(encomium), and this relationship is rather one of difference than of similarity. In 
the lack of a sufficiently flexible theory of classification, history is, to be sure, some- 
times associated with epideictic oratory (Cic., Or., 37). But Aristotle, it would seem,* 
saw that history belonged in a separate category, and subsequent theorists draw with 
utmost sharpness the distinction between history and encomium.’ The goal of enco- 
mium is the presentation of 76 caddy (honestum), of history To adnO&. The former 
may euphemize, suppress, amplify, in order to admit no impression but that of the 
meritorious or praiseworthy; the latter is bound to strict objectivity and impartiality. 
Accordingly we find in the preface to both of Tacitus’s historical works the ayowal 
of unpartisan devotion to truth, which befits the historian." Here, however, he says 
with similar explicitness that the present work is devoted to the honor of his father- 
in-law, Agricola. Its subject-matter is, therefore, honesta, such things as shall 
redound to the praise of the person commemorated." Thus the phrase honori desti- 


“Tacitus will also seiner Agricola....als eine histo- MSS. read pev) rodto mpooreOy, ovdev Sioicer Aas ioropias To 
rische Schrift betrachtet wissen’? (HOFFMANN, Z. f. dst. éyxwutov, The further quotation from Ammianus Marcel- 
Gym., Vol. XXI (1870), p. 251). Of a more general character linus with which he supports his statement is likewise 
and without specific reference to this passage, WOLFYLIN, evidence of the distinction between encomium and history. 
Archiv, Vol. XII, p. 116: ‘‘ Dass der Agricola und die Ger- Ammianus, in the preface to his treatment of Julian, says: 
mania aber in das Gebiet der Geschichtsschreibung fallen “His deeds are so great that the unvarnished record of 
und ihren Platz neben den Historien und Annalen haben, them is in itself almost encomiastic — ad laudativam paene 
darf als zugestanden yorausgesetzt werden.’ Eyen Pro- materiam pertinebit’’ (XVI, 1, 3). Gudeman takes the 
fessor Gudeman speaks of chaps. 18-39 (the pages of Agri- passage out of its context and causes it to appear as if 
cola) as the “strictly historical portion of his biography,” Ammianus had said that any historical record of events 
and on this theory justifies the presence of the speeches in is almost encomium. 


UAT a feytetelies (Uinta) 10 Hist., I, 1: sed incorruptam fidem professis neque 


8Nicou. Sopu. (Sp. III, p. 483,18): 0 avnp yap éxetvos..., amore quisquam et sine odio dicendus est. Ann., I, 1: inde 
TéTapTov mapa Ta Tpia Ta mpoAcXPevTa TO ioTopiKoY exadece, consilium mihi pauca de Augusto et extrema tradere, mox 
There is apparently no suggestion of this in the Rhet. or Tiberii principatum et cetera, sine ira et studio, quorum 


Poet., and from what work it is derived does not appear. causas procul habeo. 

9Cf. Potysrus, X, 21 (24), 6, cited below, p. 25, and 11 For honestum (70 xadov) as the goal of the genus lau- 
Lucian, De hist. cons., 7, who complains of historians as dativum, v. the rhetoricians passim. QUINTILIAN (III, 4, 
ayVvovvTEs Ws OV aTEVH TH igAu@ Siwpiorar Kai SiaTeTELxiaTaL H 16) criticises those qui laudativam materiam honestorum 
igropia mpos To Eyxwuov, GAAa TL peya Teixos ev MéEow eoTiV + +++ quaestione contineri putant as restricting the field 
avrav. It has seemed worth while to emphasize a well- too narrowly. For the application to a subject-matter 


known distinction in view of Professor Gudeman’s state- analogous to the Agricola cf. PLIN., Ep., VIII, 12, 4: solli- 
ment, p. x: “In fact the line of demarcation between a citarer vel ingenio hominis... . vel honestate materiae. 
historical narrative and an encomium was a very slight Scribit exitus inlustrium virorum, in his quorundam mihi 
one.” In support of this he cites Doxopater (WALz, II, carissimorum. videor ergo fungi pio munere, quorumque 
p. 413): obd€v dtotoer YAys toropias TO eyxwuctov. But a con- exsequias celebrare non licuit, horum quasi funebribus 
clusion based upon the apodosis of a conditional sentence laudationibus, seris quidem sed tanto magis veris, interesse. 
is insecure. The writer is discussing the definition of | The phrase swpremus honor is used of the laudatio funebris 
encomium as a Aoyos exfetixos and demands that Kai avéyre- in Quint., Decl., p. 296, 6 (Ritter). 

xés Shall be added; eémei et wy (Walz and presumably the 


31 


6 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





natus places the Agricola in a relationship of implied antithesis to the impartial truth 
of history, and this implicit contrast is, I suspect, expressed further in the mild adver- 
sative force which interim so frequently combines with its temporal significance. So 
far, then, from indicating a relationship of similarity to the promised Histories, the 
words imply rather a contrast, the fulfilment of a filial obligation before the author 
turns to a task absolved from any considerations except those of truth. 

The work is thus expressly dedicated to the honor of Agricola; its subject-matter 
is honestas as exemplified in him. That the praise of others, however great their 
merits, is a source of envy and rancor instead of generous recognition, is one of the 
tritest complaints of the panegyrist of all ages—urit enim fulgore suo qui praegravat 
artes infra se positas. The complaint begins with the earliest prose encomium,” and 
its history can be traced through the whole ancient literature of panegyric. To this 
weakness of human character Tacitus alludes in the familiar words at the beginning of 
his preface: quotiens virtus .. .. swpergressa est ignorantiam recti et invidiam.” 
He would imply that in the purer days of Rome the appreciation of virtue was generous, 
as the opportunity to display it was easy. Butsince we must reckon with the jealousy of 
a baser time, one must ask indulgence for the bestowal of praise. The plea is justified 
by the filial relation of the biographer to his subject (professione pietatis). Tacitus 
gives, it will be seen, a certain specific motive to the famous petitio veniae in the 
degeneracy of the times. But this is no more than a touch of art to deprive the plea 
of a certain general and commonplace character by assigning to it the appearance of 
a reason peculiar to the author or the time. For as the complaint of the imvidia 
(@@evos) which the praise of merit encounters is a commonplace in encomiastic litera- 
ture, so the petitio veniae was a recognized device of rhetoric to anticipate and con- 
ciliate the prejudice which envy would inspire. Examples are not, however, numerous 
or, at all events, have eluded observation. The theoretical formulation of the matter 
is given very briefly by the rhetorician Apsines in the chapter wept duyynoews (Spen- 
gel, 12, p. 257, 20): af pev ody éyxomactical (dimynoes) Kal evepyecr@v SiéEodov 
Eyovow: avTat TOvuY TOMTIKMOTEPAL Kai TaVHYyUpLKMTEpaL’ TpdcEoTL O€ aiTais TO eTAXOE 
(invidia)* TobdTo toivuy éravopOwréov 7) dia TOY TpoTapaitncewy (deprecationes, peti- 
tiones veniae) 7) T@ avaryKaiov Secxvivat Tov Adyov Ta TOA TpOTTrOLOvpEVOY TapadelT EL 
i) €& avaipécewas Ta TOAAA Eloadyovta KTr. Cf. also Aristides, Sp. II, 506, 8: rod dé 
un hoptiKas éraweiy.... TpoTor eloly olde. mpaTov.... ws cuvavayKacbels él TovTO 
doxn cvveveyOnvat ... . Tpit0s TpdTOS Stay Tplv eiTreEiv TL OVYYyV@LNV Ed’ O's av MENAH Eye 
aitntat «TX. Another axample of such a wpomapaitnows we may learn of, or rather 
infer, from Pliny’s account of an address which he had delivered on the dedication 
of a library at Comum, and was preparing to publish. The subject-matter was enco- 
miastic, and dealt with his own generosity and that of his parents: anceps hic et lubri- 
cus locus est, etiam cum illi necessitas lenocinatur. The necessitas (cf. the passage 


12 Of. Isoc., Buag., 6: roitwy & aitios 6 povos Kra, 13 Cf, THON (rm, éyx.), Sp. IT, 110, 13: Kadai b€ ioe mpaters 


. Tov Tov TOAAWY Odvov UmepBadAdpevat, 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 7 








of Aristides above) lay in the filial duty to commemorate adequately the munificence 
of his parents, and this obligation of filial affection afforded a ground of indulgence 
(lenocinatur), without, however, wholly eliminating the difficulties which envy imposes 
upon all praise: efenim si alienae quoque laudes parum acquis auribus accipt solent, 
quam difficile est optinere ne molesta videatur oratio de se aut de suis disserentis ? 
nam cum ipsi honestati tum aliquanto magis gloriae eius praedicationique invidemus 
(ip: 4, 7,6): 

Tacitus thus conceived of it as a duty imposed by filial regard to write the life of 
his father-in-law, and it could not occur to him to do this otherwise than in the form 
of encomiastic biography, which tradition and personal feeling prescribed. But to 
the difficulties of praise which lie in the nature of human relations was added the 
special character of the times which ill brooked the prominence of the individual. It 
was, therefore, a matter of special art to find a form which should accomplish the 
desired end of laudatory biography without the offense which simply encomium was 
certain to convey. For the early life of Agricola there was no reason why the ordi- 
nary forms of biographical characterization should not suffice (4-9). In the praise 
of the youthful Agricola there could be no offense. But the events on which his real 
claims to a lasting place in memory should rest, and in which his greatness of char- 
acter was most fully revealed, his exploration and complete conquest of Britain, were 
of a different character. Their importance was such, and they touched so closely, by 
contrast or comparison, the interests of others still living, that a form of presenta- 
tion was requisite which should at once accomplish the end sought, and, by the 
appearance of historical objectivity, disarm criticism and envy. This part of the 
work, therefore, is cast in the conventional form of history, and even with a certain 
affectation of observance of the form where, in fact, it is deserted. It is at the same 
time to be remembered that the conditions of biographical treatment of eminent 
Romans under the empire were peculiar. The form of classical biography which 
Plutarch presents has to do, in nearly every case, with men whose careers were varied 
— political, military, literary, ete. But for an Agricola or a Corbulo the essential 
matter of biographical record was the proconsular career. In his province the efficient 
proconsul was a monarch about whose personality, for the time being, the history of a 
part of the empire revolved. It was inevitable, therefore, that for such portions of a 
life biographical treatment should pass over to some extent into the related territory 
of history. But in such cases, though the historical form might be employed, the 
record of events was likely to be, as in this part of the Agricola, essentially in the 
manner of encomium. 

What that manner was is well known to us from the extant specimens of such 
literature and from the theoretical precepts of the rhetoricians. In its most formal 
aspects it is a classification of the mpa&es under certain apeta’ as rubrics. It is thus 
that Cicero praises the scientia rei militaris, virtus, auctoritas, felicitas of Pompey by 
illustrations chosen from his career. The rhetorical formulation of this method may 

33 


8 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





be illustrated by a single citation from the theorists (Menander, Sp. III, p. 373, 5): 
diaiper aravtaxod Tas mpdEes ov av méAXAHS eyxoutalew eis Tas aperas. More analogous 
to, and yet in details very different from, the Agricola is the narrative part of the 
Agesilaus, which is introduced with the words (I, 6): 60a ye piv év tH Bacrrela 
duerrpaEato viv 76n Ouynoopat’ amo yap TOV épywv Kat Tors TpoTOUS avTOU KadANOTA 
vonife katadnrous éoecOar. A single further illustration of the method may be added 
from an encomium of Julian’s, in Constant., p. 4 D: é¢ draou 6€ TovTous (poonjKe) 
dorep yvopicnata Tov Ths Wuyhs aperav tas mpakas duedOeiv. Brief recognition of 
this conception of biography is made by Tacitus himself in chap. 1: adeo virtutes 
isdem temporibus optime aestimantur quibus facillime gignuntur. That is, the 
literary record of a life is essentially a presentation of virtutes, or character, as illus- 
trated in a man’s deeds ( facta moresque posteris tradere). It is from this point of 
view that most of the chapters under consideration are written. How widely they 
differ from Tacitus’s historical manner will be illustrated below. Concerning the first 
chapter of the geographical description of Britain (10), and the motives for the 
uprising in the administration of Suetonius Paulinus (15), a word later; but now let 
us turn to the campaigns of Agricola in illustration of what has been said above. 


In the first summer, although it was already half gone, Agricola made two 
important expeditions, the one against the Ordoyices, and the other against the island 
of Mona. Both are narrated rather as revealing the energy and discernment of 
Agricola than as historical events of significance in themselves. The army looked 
upon its campaigns for the season as over, and the enemy were on the watch to 
follow up an advantage recently gained. Meantime they awaited quietly an oppor- 
tunity to test the temper of the new legate. The troops were dispersed to their 
stations, the conditions were adverse to an expedition for that season (tarda et 
contraria bellum incohaturo), while the advisers of Agricola urged against offensive 
operations. The whole situation is studiously presented to show the allurements to 
inactivity which confronted Agricola. It affords thus a background against which to 
set in effective contrast the energy which he at once displayed. The expedition 
against the Ordovices was immediately followed up by the invasion of Mona, the 
motive assigned for which reveals the characterizing significance of the narrative (non 
ignarus instandum famae). The difference between this account of the invasion of 
Mona and the one described in Ann., XIV, 29 (under Suetonius Paulinus) is especi- 
ally significant of the distinction between the historical and the encomiastic method of 
treatment. In the Agricola practically the whole of the highly rhetorical narrative is 
directed to showing the ingenuity and perseverance of the leader in finding means of 
getting his troops across in the absence of ships, and to describing the effect of 
wonder and dismay which the display of such resourcefulness produced upon the 
islanders: ita repente inmisit, ut obstupefacti hostes, qui classem, qui navis, qui mare 
expectabant, nihil arduum aut invictum crediderint sic ad bellum venientibus. The 

34 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 9 





whole passage is a striking example of a highly elaborated av—now (almost to the 
point of frigidity), directed to the praise of the ratio et constantia ducis (vs. 20). 
Contrast with this the simple statement of the same method of invasion in Amn., XLV, 
29: equites vada secuti aut altiores inter undas adnantes equis tramisere. There 
follows then, in the Annals, a vivid picture of the natives of the island gathered 
upon the shore, the fanatical behavior of the Druids, the alarm with which the scene 
inspired the Romans, the rout of the inhabitants, the stationing of a garrison, the 
destruction of the sacred groves, and an allusion to the custom of human sacrifice. 
In the one case we have a narrative of facts and events of a universal, historical 
significance; in the other, the rhetorical amplification of a single point to illustrate a 
quality of an individual character.‘ The remainder of the chapter is expressly 
devoted to drawing inferences for the characterization of Agricola from the deeds of 
this first season: renown and recognition which followed (clarus ac magnus haberv), 
contrast of his vigor with the ostentation and inactivity of others in the beginning of 
their administration (quippe cui ingredientem provinciam, quod tempus alii per 
ostentationem, etc.), modesty of bearing in the face of success (dissimulatione famae 
famam auxit). 

Apart from the emphasis thus laid upon characterization as distinguished from 
narrative, the chapter reveals a conspicuous feature of encomiastic style in the con- 
stant employment of comparison (avyxpiors ), express or implied.” I have pointed out 
above how the whole situation on Agricola’s arrival is presented with careful reference 
to affording a background of obstacles against which to display the efficiency of 
Agricola in overcoming them. Of a similar character are such explicit contrasts as 
(vs. 10): et plerisque custodiri suspecta potius videbatur; or (vs. 27): quod tempus 
alu... . transigunt. To this syneritical figure (cyjpa cvyKpitixov) belongs also 
the rhetorical av&nous cited above, expressing the surprise of the inhabitants of Mona, 
who had looked for an invasion by a fleet and, in dismay at the unwonted attack, 
thought nothing invincible sie ad bellum venientibus. 

In the passage of the rhetorician Apsines quoted above (p. 6), one of the resources 
of encomiastic narrative is designated as avaipeous, that is, so to speak, the paint- 
ing of a negative background against which to set in sharper outline a positive 
picture. It is obviously a form of the oxjma ovyKpitixov, It was recognized as a 
means of lending dignity and impressiveness to style," and in practice it is constantly 


14. Cf, LUCIAN, Quomodo hist. cons., 7 (speaking of the other examples are for the most part implied comparisons 
faults of historians): apeAnoavtes ot mOAAOL avT@y TOU ioTopety (introduced with such phrases as non alius, non ut ple- 


Td YEYEVNMEVG TOLS ETALVOLS TOY 4pXOVTwY Kal OTpaTHnywv evdtatpl- rique, or with the figure of avaipeots) merely touched in 
Bovow. passing. The theory of them would seem to be alluded to 
by Nic. Sopu., Sp. III, 481,17: tva un ravrp exAvnrac (0 Adyos) 


15On the encomiastic significance of ovyxpiors in gen- 
eral, see the writers of mpoyvmvaocnara, THEON, Sp. IT, 112; 
APHTHONIUS, tbid., 42; HERMOGENES, tbid., 14, and passim. 
Cf. HERMOG., 13, 3: weyiatn SE Ev Tots eyxwuiors apopun 7H aro 16 HERMOGENES, 7. idewy (Sp.11, 307,3) : ¢xjuara dé Aapmpa 
Tav cvykpiaewv, The ovyxprots was sometimes formal and Oca Kai everdy, oiov ai avaipecersxtA, Cf, also Sp, III, 125, 13, 
elaborate, sometimes merely incidental. The most formal and 130, 8. 
ovyxpors in the Agricola is in chap. 41 (cited below, p.31) ; the 


35 


ovnY pVAUNY ToLovmEevwY OY... , Tetpagouefa eis apeTas 


avaépery Tas mpakers Kai EmayeLy KaTa MEPOS TAS TVYKPiCELs, 


10 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





found in professedly encomiastic passages. It is especially frequent in characterizing 
descriptions, as, for instance, in chap. 5: nee Agricola licenter, more iuvenum qui 
militiam in lasciviam vertunt, neque segniter, ete. . . . . sed noscere provinciam, ete. ; 
or, again, chap. 8: nec Agricola wmquam in suam famam gestis exsultavit: ad 
auctorem ac ducem ut minister fortunam referebat. See also the whole of chap. 9. 
Tn all these cases it is constantly combined with (as in the first example from chap. 5, 
above), or is the expression of, a avyxpiows. The form nec or non (frequently repeated 
in anaphora), followed by sed, is the most common. Or, as above, in the example from 
chap. 8, the positive antithesis may be introduced in adversative asyndeton. The 
phenomenon is one of considerable interest as an index of stylistic tone, and deserves 
more detailed investigation along with the whole question of rhetorical cvyxpiow. It 
is this figure of avaipeovs in which the concluding words of the chapter are cast: nec 
Agricola prosperitate rerum in vanuitatem usus, expeditionem aut victoriam vocabat 
victos continuisse; ne lawreatis quidem gesta prosecutus est, sed ipsa dissimulatione 
famae famam auxit, aestimantibus quanta futuri spe tam magna tacuisset. 

Chap. 19 contains a description of the civil administration of Agricola. It does 
not record particular measures which he introduced to perfect the internal organization 
of the province, but characterizes his discernment (animorum provinciae prudens) in 
the recognition of the source of evil, and his wisdom and justice in a reform. The 
only matter of a general historical value which the chapter contains is the explanation 
of the abuses which had marked the exaction of tribute before Agricola, appended 
as a contrast to the characterization of his reform in this respect. 

As in the preceding chapter, so here, expressed and implied cvyxpiows plays a 
prominent rdle: domum suam coercuit, quod plerisque haud minus arduum est quam 
provinciam regere (vs. 4); circumcisis quae in quaestum reperta ipso tributo gravius 
tolerabantur (vs. 14)—an implied ovyxpious which is then elaborated in the description 
of former abuses. Note especially the end of this section, which the editors paragraph 
absurdly with chap. 20: haec primo statim anno comprimendo egregiam famam pact 
circumdedit, quae vel incuria vel intolerentia priorum haud minus quam bellum 





timebatur. The words summarize in the form of a contrast the encomiastic sig- 
nificance of the preceding characterization. The figure of avaipeows is a marked 
feature of the style of this section also. 

The narrative of the second summer is perhaps the best illustration to be found 
of the statement made above, that the conventional form of an annalistic record is 
preserved in these chapters, where on examination the matter is found to be purely 
characterizing and encomiastic. This brief section, set off in the historical manner 
between the words sed wbi aestas advenit (20, 3) and sequens hiems (21, 1), contains 
neither topography nor names. It is a chapter of characterization pure and simple, 
and the effort of commentators to locate the geography is futile, if not absurd.” The 


17 Cf. WALcH, p. 282, GuDEMAN, ad loc., and Fur- and forests (aestuaria ac silvas) are again alluded to in 
NEAUX, Jnt., p. 40. Furneaux adds in a note: ‘t The friths Agricola’s speech, chap. 33,19. The silvae also mentioned in 


36 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 11 





words themselves show that there is no thought of describing historically recorded 
operations, but merely of displaying Agricola in the capacity of leader: sed whi aestas 
advenit, contracto exercitu multus in agmine, laudare modestiam, disiectos coercere; 
loca castris ipse capere, aestuaria ac silvas ipse practemptare; et mhil interim apud 
hostis quietum pati, quo minus subitis excursibus popularetur ; alque ubi satis terruerat, 
parcendo rursus invitamenta pacis ostentare. The form is the so-called historical 
infinitive which we haye seen in the preceding chapter and which plays so large a réle 
elsewhere in abstract characterization.” The conclusion of the chapter returns to the 
convention of an annalistic narrative and gives as the result of the campaign a con- 
crete statement: wt nulla ante Britanniae nova pars < pariter> illacessita transierit. 
But, as we have seen, the part of Britain in question is assigned neither geographical 
location nor name. It is merely a stage on which to display Agricola in the role of 
an efficient leader. 

In similar alternation, as at the end of the first year’s campaign, the next chapter 
is devoted to works of peace. The annalistic form is again preserved, and the chro- 
nology of this activity is placed in the second winter of Agricola’s administration. 
But the briefest glance at the contents of the chapter will show how artificial the 
annalistic formula is. For here are stated results which the whole seven years of 
Agricola’s office would scarcely have sufficed to accomplish; in short, nothing less than 
the transition of a people from relative barbarism to the refinements of civilization. 
There can be no doubt that Tacitus means, in fact, to indicate the results of Agricola’s 
influence throughout his whole term of office. But the form chosen has the appear- 
ance of referring the efforts of Agricola to a single winter. The description is 
undoubtedly meant to furnish evidence of the wholesome plans (saluberrima consilia) 
of Agricola for his people, and the satirical remark at the end, idque apud imperitos 
humamitas vocabatur, cum pars servitutis essef, is in reality marginal, so to speak— 
a gloss of Tacitus the satirist upon the text of Tacitus the encomiast. 

The campaign of the third summer gives us, at length, the suggestion of a 
geographical location; but it is worth while to note how little significance is attached 
to the historical narrative, and how it is wholly devoted to illustrating the efficiency 
of Agricola: tertius erpeditionum annus novas gentis aperuit, vastatis usque ad 
Tanaum ... . nationibus. The encomiastic element contained in the statement of 
new discoveries (swmendae res . . . . novitate primae, Cic., De Or., II, 347) consti- 
tutes the main sentence, to which is appended a statement of the operations and their 
location. The sentence following similarly looks to the praise of Agricola, in that 
eyen under adverse conditions his army was not attacked: qua formidine territi hostes 
quamquam conflictatum saevis tempestatibus exercitum lacessere non aust. The narra- 


both places appear to suit those parts, but are probably 18 With the whole passage cf. Statius’s characteriza- 
less distinctive.’’ This reference to Agricola’s speech tion of Bolanus (Silv., V, 2, 41): Bolanus iter praenosse 
should have sufficed to show that the writer is deal- timendum, || Bolanus tutis iuga quaerere commoda castris, || 


ing with a most general description of the difficulties metari Bolanus agros, aperire malignas || torrentum nemo- 
which confront the march of an army. (Cf. 33, 14; 31, 6; rumque moras (cf. aestuaria ac silvas praetemptare), etc. 
26, 13.) . Cf. also the Ps. Tibull. panegyric of Messalla, vss. 82-8. 


12 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





tive continues: ponendisque insuper castellis spatium fuit—a statement which is made 
the starting-point for a characterization of Agricola’s strategic skill in selecting suit- 
able places for fortification (and, with discerning regard for the persuasiveness of his 
description, it is put in the mouth of military experts who accompanied Agricola): 
adnotabant periti non alium ducem opportuwutates locorum sapientius legisse. The 
encomiastic ovyxpiors contained in these words (non alium ducem) is continued in the 
following, where the despair of the enemy in the face of constant attacks is explained: 
quia soliti plerumque damna aestatis hibernis eventibus pensare tum aestate atque 
hieme iuxta pellebantur. The remainder of the chapter is wholly characterizing: nec 
Agricola umquam per alios gesta avidus intercepit, etc. At the end we have the 
only example which the work affords of allusion to a quality of Agricola’s character 
which was open to criticism and had, apparently, in fact been criticised by his 
subordinates and soldiers: apud quosdam acerbior in conviciis narrabatur, ete. But 
it is a mistake to believe, as has often been said, that this passage furnishes evidence 
for the impartiality of Tacitus’s characterization. On the contrary, it is evidence of 
the encomiastic tone of the whole. That is, a criticism which was made upon Agricola 
by others is accepted, but not allowed to stand without interpretation: he was, to 
be sure, harsh, but adversus malos; to the good he was ever kindly (comis bonis). 
The rhetorical theory of such avTiéces (that is, things which stand in the way of 
praise) and of their appropriate Avoes is alluded to by the technicians, for example, 
Nicolaus Sophista, Sp. III, p. 481, 28: €ntnréov 6¢, et avtMecw eéridéyetat TO eyx@piov, 
2. . ef 66 €& (dvalovens bAns eutrécor, 6 atroxptyat ov duvdpeOa Sia TO TOY aKkpoaTiy 
avo Gyteiv, TH TE wEeO0dM avTO KaBaipnoopev Kal Tas AVoES e7aEOMeY ioyupoTépas, iva 
mavtaxyobev 70 THs avtiBécews BAAdBos AvVHTat (cf. also Menander, ibid., p. 370, 30). 
The final words of the chapter afford an implied ovy«prous, which, as editors have seen, 
probably contrasts Agricola with Domitian: Ceterum ex tracundia nihil supererat 
secretum, ut silentium eius non timeres: honestius putabat offendere quam odisse. 

Chap. 23 tells briefly of the regular occupation (obtinendis) of the territory 
which had been explored in the preceding summer and winter, by which the conquest 
of Britain proper was rendered complete (swmmotis velut in aliam insulam hostibus). 
The narrative takes much for granted, since we have learned of no specific expeditions 
which would adequately explain the subjugation of all parts of Britain. But results, 
with their significance for the praise of Agricola, rather than the historical develop- 
ment of events, are the goal of Tacitus’s writing, and this brief section emphasizes the 
complete conquest of Britain proper in phraseology which shows that this success was 
but a manifestation of that valor which would not stop until the extreme bounds of 
the island had been explored. To be sure, Agricola is not named, but it is obvious 
that whatever is here attributed to the virtus exercituwm is meant to stand for the 
virtus Agricolae. 

It is interesting to observe the art with which, by a series of cumulative expres- 
sions, the encomiastic significance of the final penetration of Caledonia is enforced. 

38 


GrorGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 13 











Here it is merely suggested negatively as something without which a substantial 
success would have been achieved (ae si virtus exercituum et Romani nominis gloria 
pateretur inventus in ipsa Britannia terminus). In chap. 27 it is the ambition which 
fires the army with enthusiasm for further advance (penetrandam Caledoniam inveni- 
endumque tandem Britanniae terminum). In chap. 33 pride in the accomplished fact 
is the basis of Agricola’s appeal to the valor of his sgldiers before the great battle 
(finem Britanniae non fama nee rumore sed castris et armis tenemus ). 

Chap. 24 is extremely vague in respect to geographical detail (nave prima trans- 
gressus), and here again, as elsewhere, the emphasis rests upon the encomiastic 
implications contained in the main sentence: ignotas ad id tempus gentis crebris 
simul ace prosperis procliis domuit. The remainder of the chapter, devoted to the 
description of Ireland and plans for its invasion, serves to illustrate the discerning 
statesmanship of Agricola in recognizing the strategic position of Ireland with refer- 
ence to Spain as well as to Britain. In the artistic arrangement of the work it affords 
a digression from the monotony of successful campaigns, and in this respect is com- 
parable to chaps. 19 and 21, devoted respectively to the civil administration of Britain 
and to Agricola’s influence upon the private life and civilization of his province. 

The account of the sixth campaign (25) opens with a brief statement of the 
scene of operations and of the reasons which led to the employment of a fleet (portus 
classe exploravit). These words are then made the starting-point for an elaborate 
and highly rhetorical avjovs, of which the encomiastic locus ex novitate (ab Agricola 
primum adsumpta) affords the starting-point. It continues with a vivid and pictu- 
resque description of the effect which the combination of a land and sea force pro- 
duced, of the rivalry and enthusiasm of soldiers and sailors, of the despair and dismay 
of the enemy. The whole treatment is declamatory and epideictic. Take, for 
example, the phrase hine terra et hostis, hine victus Oceanus militari iactantia 
compararentur. The high rhetorical color is obvious in itself, but a comparison with 
the declamatory epigrams in praise of Claudius and his expedition to Britain (P. L. 
M., IV, 29-36) will reveal more clearly the essential affinities of such language. A 
single illustration may suffice (2bid., 35): oceanus iam terga dedit, nee pervius ulli 
Caesareos fasces imperiumque tulit: || illa procul nostro semota exclusaque caelo, 
alluitur nostra victa Britannis aqua. The section is characteristic. Of the move- 
ments of army or fleet we learn nothing, nor is any hint given of the geography of 





the operations beyond the Bodotria. But, as we have seen, such information lay out- 
side of the author’s plan and belonged in the realm of history. He is here only 
concerned to emphasize the fact that Agricola was the first to employ a fleet and to 
indicate the effect of dismay which it produced upon the inhabitants. In the descrip- 
tion which follows of the gathering of the Caledonians and their initiative in attacking 
Roman strongholds, especially noteworthy for our purpose is the statement: regredi- 
endum citra Bodotriam et excedendum potius quam pellerentur ignavi specie 
prudentium admonebant. That members of Agricola’s staff may have given such 
39 


14 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





advice, there is no reason to question. But their presence here is probably only a 
foil against which to set the bravery and generalship of Agricola in clearer light. It 
is another manifestation of the oxAma ovyxpitixev which has confronted us so often. 

In the following it is to be noted that Agricola knows how to keep in touch with 
the enemy’s plans (cwm interim cognoscit hostis pluribus agminibus irrupturos) and 
to foil the snare that they set for him (cum Agricola iter hostium ab exploratoribus 
edoctus .. . . adsultare tergis pugnantium iubet, 26, 4). Such skill and knowledge 
was a constant source of military encomium, so that it has even found formulation 
in the precepts of the rhetoricians for encomium.” At the same time it is not to be 
denied that the historical tone is preserved in this chapter almost perfectly, and the 
personality of Agricola here, at all events, is no more obtrusive than would be that of 
a commander in almost any historical narrative. 

This statement applies also to the opening of the following chapter, where, as in 
23, by assigning a thought to the army, Tacitus makes it possible to utter with 
rhetorical exaggeration what is one of his chief claims for the merit of Agricola: 
exercitus nihil virtuti suc invium et penetrandam Caledoniam inveniendumque 
tandem Britanniae terminum continuo proeliorum cursu fremebant. The encomiastic 
significance of these words appears most clearly when they are put in comparison with 
the impatient statement of Pliny in N. H., IV, 16 (102): XXX prope iam annis 
notitiam eius Romanis armis non ultra vicinitatem silvae Caledoniae propagantibus. 
Inveniendum tandem Britanniae terminum is the answer to this complaint. (Cf. 
also the discussion of this passage above in connection with 23, 1, and 33,12.) The 
words which follow are the obverse of the syncrisis made above between the determi- 
nation and skill of Agricola and the cowardice of his advisers: atque ili modo cauti 
ac sapientes prompti post eventum ac magniloqui erant. They are followed by a 
significant comment which reveals that Tacitus would claim for the merit of Agricola 
the successes which a victorious army was prone to attribute to its own prowess: 
miquissima haec bellorum condicio est: prospera omnes sibi vindicant, adversa unt 
imputantur. 

Concerning chap. 28 (the revolt of the Usipian cohort) every defender of the 
biographical unity of the Agricola has felt it necessary to discover an explanation 
which shall bring it into relation either to the character of Agricola or to the artistic 
structure of the work as a whole. But obviously it is futile to seek in it for any 
element of characterization, and it is equally absurd to find in an annalistic narrative 
of this sort the high emotional tension which calls for a moment of suspense before 
the final dénouement. But, though it cannot be said in any way to contribute to our 


19 Cf, MENANDER, Sp. IIT, 373, 20: éxppacers 5& kat Adxous I, 51, 8: saltusque, per quos exercitui regressus, insedere. 


kai évédpas Kai Tov BactAdws Kata THY TOAELiwY Kai TOY EvayTioV quod gnarum duci, ete.; ibid., Il, 20 (after describing the 
kara Tov BactAéws" elta épeis OTL ai Mev TOUS éxetvwY AdXOUS Kai Germans’ plan of ambush): nihil ex his Caesari incog- 
Tas évebpas dca ppovnaw éyivwoxes, exetvor 5 Tov Urd Gov mpaT- nitum, ete.; tbid., XIIT, 40, 3: repente agmen Romanum 
Towevwyv ovdev auviecav, The naive injunction of the rhe- circumfundit (Tiridates), non ignaro duce nostro, ete. 


torician is almost equaled by the bald simplicity of the Srarius, Silv., V, 2 (laudes Bolani), 40, 
practice of writers of the highest rank. Cf. Tacrrus, Ann., 


40 


GrorRGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 15 








knowledge of Agricola, yet for his contemporaries the connection of this famous 
adventure with his administration must have possessed no little biographical interest. 
The affair had made a sensation in its day, and the survivors who had reached Roman 
territory through the devious paths of servitude and sale, reporting their adventure, 
had attained a notoriety which we can only understand when we realize how vague 
and remote the unexplored Northern Ocean was felt to be (ae fuere quos .. . . indi- 
cium tanti casus inlustravit). These deserters had accomplished what neither Roman 
military expeditions nor geographical explorers had as yet succeeded in, the circum- 
navigation of Britain, and, according to Dio Cassius, it was only in consequence of 
this that Agricola sent out his own expedition of exploration (66, 20): «ax Tovrou Kat 
Gddous 6 Aypixdras treipdcovtas Tov TepitAouv Téuras Ewabe Kal Trap’ éxelvov OTL VATOS 
éorw. Of this there is no suggestion in Tacitus, but a reason for suppressing the fact 
might lie in the desire to ascribe the idea of circumnavigation to Agricola’s own 
initiative. Still, the account of Dio Cassius differs in some essential points from 
Tacitus, so that it must have been derived from a different source. The fact of the 
existence of a different account of the matter is in itself significant of the celebrity of 
the episode, and still more the circumstance that it is essentially the only event of 
Agricola’s proconsulship which Dio records. It may be observed in conclusion that 
Calgacus in his speech before the battle (32, 19) instances this desertion as evidence 
of the unstable organization of the Roman army. The episode is thus made by 
Tacitus himself to contribute to the series of obstacles which the generalship of 
Agricola has to overcome. 

The following chapter begins with the record of a domestic blow, the loss of a 
son—obviously an item of biographical rather than historical significance, and it 
affords occasion for laudatory characterization of Agricola’s conduct under this grief. 
It assumes again the form of a ovy«piows (neque ut plerique fortium virorum, ete.). 
This brings us, then, to the confronting of the two forces at Mons Graupius, and the 
speeches of the opposing leaders, Calgacus and Agricola. 

The introduction of these harangues by the opposing leaders on the eve of conflict 
is purely in the manner of historiography, for such speeches as are found elsewhere 
in ancient biography are of a more personal and characterizing kind. They continue 
thus the historical form which has been observed in the annalistie record of Agricola’s 
deeds. The general’s speech in ancient historiography has a manifold significance. 
In part it is employed to lend color to the dramatic picture of the whole scene and 
circumstances of the battle; in part to summarize the historical situation and thus 
afford a setting for the event of victory or defeat; again it is a means of characterizing 
the speaker, and of enabling the historian to interpret by the general’s own words 
the character which preceding or following events reveal. Of these considerations 
the last may here be dismissed, since there could be little point in the indirect charac- 
terization of Agricola which the speech would afford, when he has already been char- 
acterized directly in much detail. As for Calgacus, there is no reason why he should 

41 


16 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





be characterized at all. He has not been named in the narrative before, and here he 
simply steps forth from the throng for the sake of affording a personality to whom 
words may be assigned, representing the situation from the side of the Britons. But 
apart from the rhetorical opportunity which is afforded, it is obvious that the speeches 
summarize the whole course of Agricola’s conquests, and prepare the reader for the 
successful outcome of the battle which was the crowning achievement of Agricola’s 
administration. 

The burden of the first part of Calgacus’s speech (30) is, that on the Britons there 
gathered rests the last hope of freedom from the Roman yoke (hodiernum diem . . . 
initium libertatis toti Britanniae fore). They are still free, but beyond them there is 
no resource—nullae ultra terrae ac ne mare quidem securum imminente nobis classe 
Romana. In earlier contests against the Romans hope of succor had been derived 
from the fact that they remained still uncorrupted by the touch or sight of servitude 
(priores pugnae, ete.—a form of ovy«piows with encomiastic suggestion, contrasting the 
conditions of this struggle with all others which Roman commanders had engaged in 
against the Britons); they were the last of lands and of liberty (nos terrarum ac 
libertatis extremos), and their remoteness had defended them to that day: sed nunc ter- 
minus Britanniae patet, nulla iam ultra gens. Not satisfied with the conquest of all 
lands, the Romans now penetrate the mystery of the sea (/am et mare scrutantur— 
rhetorical av&yous, from the side of the Britons, of Agricola’s employment of a fleet). 
The Romans (32) had been strong only by the dissensions of the enemy who were now 
united. The Roman army is made up of diverse elements which adversity will scatter. 
All inducements to victory are on the side of the Britons. The Romans are not 
fighting for homes nor for native land. They are few in number, unacquainted with 
their surroundings, and terrified by them. The Britons, Gauls, and Germans, who 
make up the Roman army, will recognize the identity of their interests with ours, and 
desert them as did recently the Usipian cohort. 

In this speech, apart from the reproaches which are directed against the nature of 
Roman domination (especially chap. 31), there are two main thoughts developed with 
all the resources of rhetorical art: (1) that Agricola had pursued resistance to Roman 
rule to its last stronghold, and (2) that in this conquest the Romans were at a great 
disadvantage to their adversaries from almost every point of view. Both are, from a 
negative point of view, sources of encomium to Agricola in the successful outcome of 
battle. 

The speech of Agricola (33) begins with a rhetorical recapitulation of the seven 
years of campaigns, and it reveals at once in this the main object of these speeches, 





namely, to present, in the strong rhetorical light which usage rendered appropriate 

for such military harangues, the claims which the author advances for the praise of 

Agricola: For seven years he had campaigned successfully with the cordial support 

of his army (neque me militum neque vos ducis paenituit) against almost insurmount- 

able difficulties (paene adversus ipsam rerum naturam). As a result they had 
42 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 17 





advanced beyond the limits set by their predecessors (egress? ego veterum legatorum, 
vos priorum exercituum terminos), and now actually occupied the very limits of Britain, 
which before were only known by vague rumor or report (finem Britanniae non fama 
nec rumore sed castris et armis tenemus). The passage concludes with the exultant 
emupovnna—inventa Britannia et subacta.” With these words the speech opens, and 
here for the first and only time is it possible for Tacitus to state directly in strong 
encomiastic avEnow the two claims for distinction derived from the deeds of Agricola, 
his explorations (inventa) and his conquests (subacta). His speech continues with 
conventional exhortation and praise to his soldiers, and allusion is made to the difficul- 
ties of their situation (neque enim nobis aut locorum eadem notitia aut commeatuum 
eadem abundantia). At the end of the chapter he alludes in romantic phraseology to 
the glory of adventure and, if need be, of death at the very boundaries of the world 
(nec inglorium fuerit in ipso terrarum ac naturae fine cecidisse).” The succeeding 
section is taken up with conventional depreciation of the enemy, but the brief horta- 
tory peroration returns to the encomiastic To7es with which the speech opened—tran- 
sigite cum expeditionibus, imponite quinquaginta annis magnum diem, ete. These 
final words contain the gist of the whole situation. They enable Tacitus to say what 
in his own person he could not claim without invidious comparison—that Agricola 
had set the crown on the work begun by Claudius; he had completed the exploration 
and conquest of the island. By putting the words in the mouth of Agricola, in the 
form of an exhortation to his army on the eve of battle, they are deprived of all arro- 
gance or invidious suggestion of comparison with the merits of others. The device is 
analogous to a well-recognized rule of ancient rhetoric which Aristotle formulates thus 
(Rhet., IIT, 17, p. 1418b, 24): eds d€ 70 700s, errevd) Ema repi avtod Eye 7) eripOovor 7 
HaxpoXoyiav 7) avtidoyiav Exel, . . . . ETEPOV yp} EyovTa Toeiv. We see here again 
a conspicuous illustration of what we have noted above in the annalistic record of 
Agricola’s campaign, namely, the skilful use of a form peculiar to historiography for 
the ends of encomium. Encomium, dealing with deeds of acknowledged greatness, 
does not hesitate to dwell with epideictic amplification of language upon the merits 
which are claimed for the subject of praise. But neither were the deeds of Agricola 
so well known, nor was his place in the history of Roman conquest so generally 
acknowledged, as to render such treatment possible;” nor, again, had his position been 
one of such eminence that his merits could be exalted above those of other governors 
of Britain without alienating the sympathy of men still living. Tacitus, therefore, 
by choosing the form of a historical narrative, and by placing in the mouths of the 
opposing generals the titles to praise which he would claim for Agricola, attained the 


20QuINT., VIII, 5,11: est enim epiphonema rei narratae not expressly confirmed it: ot yap idtoy tovTo pévov Tov Bact- 


vel probatae summa acclamatio. A€ws TO eyxwutov, aAAa KOLWOY TpdsS TaVTas TOUS OlKOUYTas THY 
2107. P. L. M., 1V, 29 (referring to the expedition of moAw’’ (GUDEMAN, Jnt., p. x, n. 1). The citation apart 
Claudius). from the context would seem convincing if we chose to 


22"That the essential features [of the BactAcxos Adyos] ignore tovro, But reference to the text shows that vov70 7 
are common to biographical writing in general might have éyxwucov refers to the topic waz7pis as a source of praise. It 
been taken for granted, even if Menander (IIT, 369, 25) had is this which is ‘common to all the residents of the city.” 


43 


18 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





end at which he aimed, and avoided at the same time the odium which attaches to 
direct. praise. 

That this portion of the Agricola which is presented in the form of historiography 
looks consistently to the praise of Agricola will probably be conceded. It remains to 
consider Leo’s utterance (cited above, p. 4) that “from chap. 18 on Agricola is the 
leading personality, but not otherwise than the commander would be in any history of 
military campaigns.” If this is true, then, of course, it must be conceded that a large 
part of the Agricola is historical rather than biographical or encomiastic in treatment. 
IT feel convinced, however, that the foregoing analysis has supplied sufficient evidence 
to refute such a statement. But it will perhaps not be carrying our investigation too 
far afield, if we undertake to test the truth of this statement by comparison with the 
history of another military campaign under the leadership of a general for whom the 
historian entertains a similar warmth of personal feeling. The justice of comparing 
Tacitus with himself in this respect will not be questioned; for if the comparison 
reveals identity or similarity of treatment, or if, on the other hand, it reveals funda- 
mental difference, we shall possess, so to speak, the author’s own judgment as to the 
literary character of this portion of the Agricola. 

That there isa certain similarity in Tacitus’s portraiture of Agricola and Ger- 
manicus, each the successful leader of Roman arms in the establishment of the impe- 
rial frontier and each the victim of an emperor’s jealous hate, has been observed more 
than once, and in general the two descriptions lend themselves very naturally to 
comparison. But in the technique of characterization of the two men there is a 
difference so marked and striking that it can only be attributed to fundamentally 
different conceptions of the nature and purpose of the two works. In the Agricola, as 
we have seen (and I confine myself here exclusively to the record of campaigns, 
chaps. 18-29), events are recorded and their significance for the personality of the 
hero is pointed out in such a way as to reveal that the emphasis of the narrative lies 
upon the characterization. It is, furthermore, noteworthy that not a single officer 
other than Agricola is allowed to appear upon the scene by name, although it would 
have seemed natural in a historical narrative to designate at least the commander 
of the fleet which played so important a role in the conquest of Caledonia, and which 
accomplished the circumnayigation of Britain and the exploration of the Northern 
Sea. In the reform of the civil administration of the island the Roman procurator 
must also have played a prominent part, for without his co-operation such changes in 
the levying of tribute as are recorded must have been quite impossible. It is not 
too much to affirm that the encomiastic nature of the Agricola is responsible for such 


suppression. 


The campaigns of Germanicus on the German frontier are described in the Annals 
beginning at I, 33, and continuing, with the interposition of some other material, as 
far as II, 26. The account covers the expeditions of the years 14, 15, and 16 A. D. 

44 


GeEorGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 19 





It is, of course, a much more detailed narrative than the record of expeditions in 
Britain, and this in itself would be an adequate explanation for the fact that the deeds 
of the lieutenants of Germanicus come in for a conspicuous share of attention. The 
three officers who had charge of fitting out the fleet in the third campaign are men- 
tioned by name (II, 6), and even the name of an eagle-bearer who protected a Roman 
envoy against the mutinous violence of the legionaries is recorded (I, 39). But the 
difference in fulness of narrative and historical importance of eyents, which might 
account for such differences of treatment as these, will not explain the fact that 
throughout this whole campaign, exceeding by many pages the length of the corre- 
sponding part of the Agricola, the events recorded are very rarely used for the purpose 
of direct characterization of the leading figure. Germanicus is almost constantly 
before us, in speech or plans or action, but the reader is left to draw his own infer- 
ences and to interpret the character dramatically from the course of the narrative. 
There is not a single characterization of Germanicus in the field comparable to Agr., 
20; nor, again, of his strategic skill in the selection and defense of camps as in 22. 
There is no characterization whatever of the civil administration of his province (Agr., 
19 and 21). In general, the narrative is dramatic in the highest sense, and scarcely 
once does the writer lay down the réle of narrator to point out the bearing of events 
upon the character of his hero. Such characterization as is found is for the most part 
implicit in the narrative. Exceptions are few and of slight extent, as, for instance, in 
chap. 33, where upon the first introduction of Germanicus it was necessary for the 
writer to place the reader in possession of his attitude toward him. It is given first 
as an expression of the general feeling of the Roman people: wnde in Germanicum 
favor et spes eadem, a statement which elicits from Tacitus a personal indorsement: 
nam iwoent civile ingenium, mira comitas et diversa ab Tiberti sermone vultu, adro- 
gantibus et obscuris. But even this case differs from the examples of the Agricola 
under discussion, in which the characterizing significance of events is pointed out. 

Apart from this passage, throughout the remainder of Annals, I, the character of 
Germanicus is unfolded only in action or in his own words. This will appear from a 
survey of the passages of this book which convey a suggestion of personality. They 
are so few that they may be adduced here. His unselfish support of Tiberius: sed 
Germanicus quanto summae spei propor, tanto impensius pro Tiberio iti (1, 34) ; 
he replies to Sergestes clemente responso (1, 58), though the epithet is rather stra- 
tegic than personal; his pietas toward the memory of Varus and his army (I, 61); in 
the performance of the last rites on the scene of their defeat he placed the first sod 
upon the tumulus— gratissimo munere in defunctos et praesentibus doloris socius 
(1, 62); Germanicus relieves the soldiery out of his own purse and assuages the 
memory of disaster by his personal kindness (I, 71). 

But the principal characterization of Germanicus is reserved for the eve of the 
decisive battle (II, 12). The extraordinary reserve of Tacitus in his historical works 
in the matter of direct personal analysis is nowhere better illustrated. The charac- 

45 


20 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 








terization takes a dramatic form, not that of the course of events, but the singular and 
almost bizarre device of representing Germanicus as stealing forth in disguise into 
the streets of the camp in order to test the temper of the soldiers by their own utter- 
ances in their own haunts (II, 13): adsistit tabernaculis fruiturque fama sui, eum 
hic nobilitatem ducis, decorem alius, plurimi patientiam, comitatem, ete.” 

Of more directly encomiastic character is a brief statement of Germanicus’s 
strategic skill in II, 20, where, after describing the plans of the enemy, Tacitus con- 
tinues: nihil ex his Caesari incognitum: consilia locos, prompta occulta noverat 
astusque hostium in perniciem ipsis vertebat; and just beyond: quod arduum sibt 
cetera legatis permisit. The passage is comparable to Agr., 25 extr. and 26 init., and 
is almost the only considerable passage of direct praise which the whole episode 
contains. In II, 22, after giving the inscription placed upon the trophy raised by 
Germanicus, Tacitus adds: de se nihil addidit, metu invidiae an ratus conscientiam 
facti satis esse. The words furnish another illustration of the difference between 
encomium and history. As a historian Tacitus designates two possible motives. 
The encomiast would not hesitate to select the one which should yield the greater 
praise to his hero. The contrast is well shown by Agricola, 18 extr. (after the suc- 
cesses of the first campaign): ne laureatis quidem gesta prosecutus est, sed ipsa 
dissimulatione famae famam auxit. To complete the list of passages which have 
more or less direct characterizing significance for Germanicus, we may add the 
description of the energy with which the war was continued after the naval disaster 
to the Romans (II, 25): eo promptior Caesar pergit, etc., and the brief mention of 
the generosity which was shown to the soldiers in making good individual losses (II, 
26). But in all this there is but slight trace of that type of characterization (through 
the implications of acts) which confronts us constantly in the Agricola. It is possible 
that some passages have been omitted; yet I have gone over the text repeatedly, and 
I suspect rather that I have included more than really belongs here. The difference 
between the portion of the Agricola under consideration and the treatment of Germa- 
nicus in the Annals is clear and marked. In the Agricola, although the external form 
of historiography is preserved, yet in its essence the account is in the manner of enco- 
mium, in which, as was pointed out above, the mpa&es are adduced, not as historical 
events per se, but as indications of traits of character (@o7ep yropicpata tev TIS 
Wuxijs apeTov). 

The truth of this statement will appear from a brief review of the principal 
characterizing incidents and the encomiastic comment elicited by them which these 
chapters of the Agricola contain: The unexpected attack upon the Ordovices immedi- 
ately upon his arrival, as an index of the energy of Agricola in contrast to the delay 
advised by his officers and expected by the army; recognition of the importance of 

23The significance of this episode for Tacitus’s tech- 1899. Cf. also NORDEN, Antike Kunstprosa, Vol. I, p. 87: 


nique of characterization is pointed out by Bruns, Die “Tacitus, der grosste Psychologe unter den Historikern, ist 
Persinlichkeit in der antiken Geschichtsschreibung, Berlin, doch sehr zuriickhaltend.”’ 


46 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 21 





following up a first success (non ignarus instandum famac) by the attack on Mona; 
ingenuity and perseverance (ratio et constantia ducis) in finding a means of crossing 
in the absence of ships; contrast of the effect produced by his activity with the vanity 
and ostentation of most proconsuls on entering their province; modesty in success 
(18). Recognition of the wrongs of the province (animorum provinciae prudens) 
and determination to make his reforms strike at the root of evils; discipline of his 
own servants; justice in the administration of civil affairs; ovy«piow with the care- 
lessness and harshness of his predecessors (19 and 20, 1-3). Efficiency as a com- 
mander and characterization of him in the field (20). Encouragement of the arts of 
peace (21). Conquest of new territory; strategic skill as shown in choice of sites for 
fortification; persistence, in contrast to the relaxing of effort of predecessors; gener- 
ous recognition of deeds of others; interpretation by Tacitus of his reputed acerbitas, 
with implied ovyxpiois (22). Completion of the conquest of Britain proper and 
determination not to stop at that point, ascribed to the virtus exercituum et Romani 
nominis gloria (23). Statesmanship shown in plans for the conquest of Ireland (24). 
The first to employ the aid of a fleet (with strong encomiastic av&yous); bravery and 
resourcefulness, in contrast to the cowardice of his military advisers (25 and 26). 
Zeal of the army to complete the exploration and conquest of Britain, and enthusiasm 
of the officers who had before counseled retreat; reflection that the merit of success 
is claimed by all, the disgrace of defeat is attributed to one (27). Humanity of 
Agricola in grief (29). 

Tt is evident that in this record of events, with the characterizing comment which 
accompanies it, we have portrayed, through the medium of typical deeds, a series of 
qualities, and it is apparent that Tacitus aims to present to us an all-sided picture of 
Agricola in the réle of a provincial governor. He is shown to us not only as a warrior, 
resourceful and efficient in the field, self-reliant, generous to his subordinates, and 
modest in success, but also as a radical reformer in provincial administration, a patron 
of the arts of peace, a statesman discerning the importance of further conquests for 
the advantage of the empire as a whole. 


If it has now been made clear that the essential affinities of chaps. 18—39 of the 
Agricola are rather with encomiastic narrative than with historical, we may turn to 
the consideration of some portions of the section preceding, which sets forth the 
geography and ethnology of Britain and gives a brief survey of its conquest down to 
Agricola’s time. The bearing of this portion upon the personality of Agricola has 
generally been held to be even more remote than the record of his campaigns which 
we have just reviewed. But let us turn at once to the text. In the opening sentence 
Tacitus assigns as a reason for describing Britanniae situm populosque the fact that 
the complete subjugation of Britain has put him in possession of knowledge which 
others lacked. With their rhetoric he will not vie: the merit of his narrative shall 
be fidelity to facts. The matter is presented thus with the appearance of utmost 

47 


22, THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





objectivity, and the name of Agricola is suppressed throughout. Tacitus speaks as a 
historian who has made his investigations and now presents the results. The form is 
distinctly historical and not encomiastic. But the moment the reader reflects that the 
source of Tacitus’s information is Agricola, and that he is the author of the explora- 
tions which replaced ignorance and report by knowledge, it will be seen that the very 
objectivity of narrative is encomium in its most persuasive form. Nor are expressions 
lacking to impress upon the mind of the reader the indebtedness of history to him. 
Throughout this chapter the encomiastic significance of each of the more important 
items recorded is emphasized: the complete conquest of Britain (quia tum primum 
perdomita est); the certainty that it was an island (tune primum Romana classis 
circumvecta); the discovery of unknown islands beyond (incognitas ad id tempus 
insulas quas Orcadas vocant). The encomiastic value of such phrases may be seen 
from the rhetorical doctrine of appropriate topics of praise as presented, for instance, 
by Cicero (De Or., II, 347): sumendae res... . novitate primae, or by Theon 
(Sp. II, p. 110, 21): ésawerai 6€ elow ai mpdéas ... . Kai ef pdvos erpaké mus 7 
Tpatos 7) Gte ovdeis KTA. In practice it might be illustrated at great length, but one 
or two examples will suffice: (Cons. ad Liv., 19) ille . . . . ignotumque tibi merutt, 
Romane, triumphum || protulit in terras imperiumque novas. Cf. also the epigrams in 
praise of Claudius’s expedition into Britain, e. g., P. L. M., IV, p. 69 (30): victa 
prius nulli, nullo spectata triumpho|| inlibata twos gens patet in titulos. Com- 
pare also with the whole chapter the praise bestowed upon Cesar by Antony in the 
funeral oration which Dio Cassius presents in XLIV, 42, 5, where, after enumerating 
the varied conquests and explorations of Cesar in Gaul, Germany, and Britain, he 
concludes: éuBata péev Ta mply dyvacta, TA@TA Sé TA TPdTOEV AdiapevYNTAa .. . . Tomas. 

That Tacitus conceived of this matter as a source of praise to Agricola is here 
only suggested in the manner pointed out. The full encomiastic import of it he 
reserves for rhetorical elaboration in the speeches of Calgacus and Agricola (vide 
supra): first negatively, in the words of Calgacus (chap. 30), concluding with sed 
nunc terminus Britanniae patet, and then positively, in the speech of Agricola—finem 
Britanniae non fama nec rumore sed castris et armis tenemus. They are the counter- 
part to the simple statement of the ignorance of earlier writers in chap. 10 (nondwm 
comperta). Contrast also with the direct statement of the complete discovery and 
subjugation of Britain in chap. 10 the rhetorial outburst of Agricola’s speech — Britan- 
nia inventa et subacta. One may compare further with the more sober description of 
the remoteness of the extreme coast of Britain in chap. 10 (hane oram novissimi 
maris) the effective rhetorical appeal to the imagination of the soldiers in 33 extr.: nee 
inglorium fuerit in ipso terrarum ac naturae fine cecidisse. To no inconsiderable 
extent the narrative of chap. 10 paves the way for the more expressly encomiastic and 
rhetorical treatment in the subsequent course of the work. 

But, in spite of the soberness of tone of this chapter, there is noticeable a certain 
exaggeration in the treatment of Agricola’s explorations which can scarcely be 

48 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 23 








attributed to the author’s ignorance of the status of geographical knowledge. For, 
while Tacitus only affirms that Britain was then for the first time circumnavigated by 
a Roman fleet, he still leads the reader to believe that this circumnavigation estab- 
lished a disputed fact of geography (insulam esse Britanniam adfirmavit). But in 
reality, as Furneaux observes (p. 23), all earlier writers—Czsar, Diodorus, Strabo, 
Mela, Pliny —speak of it without hesitation as a triangular island.“ Similarly it seems 
hardly credible that Tacitus should be ignorant that earlier geographers had named 
and located the Orkneys, and his claim that they were discovered by Agricola (ignotas 
ad id tempus insulas invent) is open to the suspicion of exaggeration from the mani- 
fest hyperbole of the further statement concerning their subjugation (domuitque). 


In the rapid survey of the conquest of Britain down to Agricola’s time, it has 
impressed many as remarkable that approximately one-third of the space should be 
given up to a statement of the motives which led to the uprising in the administration 
of Suetonius Paulinus (reported indirectly in chap. 15). This whole preliminary 
survey is designated by Andresen as wholly without relation to the personality of 
Agricola, but this chapter he finds especially irrelevant, and sees in it evidence for his 
view, that Tacitus in chaps. 10-39 is writing a history of Britain, and not a biog- 
raphy of Agricola. As for the rest of this division, it will not, I think, seem remark- 
able to an unbiased reader that the record of Agricola’s campaigns should be prefaced 
by a brief account of the work accomplished by his predecessors. It may not, how- 
ever, be so obvious why in this very rapid sketch so much space is given to the causes 
of the uprising led by Boudicca. But, first, to approach the matter negatively, it may 
be said that, had Tacitus here been concerned only to write a history of Britain, he 
surely could not have passed over the great battle, with which the insurrection was 
quelled, so briefly (quam unius proelii fortuna veteri patientiae restituit, 16), after 
devoting so much space to the motives which led to the revolt. The treatment 
of the episode in the Annals (XIV, 35-37) reveals what must have been expected 
here of a historian: the wrongs of the Britons and the provocation to revolt 
(indirect speech of Boudicea, chap. 35), exhortation of Suetonius to his soldiers (36), 
description of the battle (36, 11—37, 8). The battle was one of the great and decisive 
struggles of Roman arms against the resistance of Britain to Roman subjugation (clara 
et antiquis victoriis par ea die laus parta), and, historically considered, was of more 
significance than any of Agricola’s conquests. It is obvious, therefore, that such a 
hypothesis as Andresen’s does not adequately account for the distribution of matter 
as found in the Agricola. 

The true explanation lies in the desire of the historian to put the reader in 


24QUINTILIAN, VII, 4, 2, cannot be used, as it is by nia insula (nam tum ignorabatur) refer, of course, to a 
Uruicus (De vita et honor. Tac., p.17), to show that the declamatory theme assuming a time before Cwsar’s in- 
insularity of Britain was a matter of dispute down to vasion, and as is expressly pointed out, only imply that at 
Agricola’s time. The words ut si Caesar deliberet an that time was the fact unknown. 

Britanniam impugnet, quae sit Oceani natura, an Britan- 


49 


24 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 








possession of the attitude of the people of Britain toward the Roman occupation. In 
the record of the deeds of Agricola’s several predecessors, Tacitus in his own words 
records the character of each administration impartially and without calculated 
depreciation, rising even to emphatic praise of the two immediate predecessors of 
Agricola (17 inif.). But of the attitude of the islanders toward the Roman adminis- 
tration he says nothing in his own person. This was the dark obverse to a history of 
progressive conquest—the fact that Roman success had done nothing to conciliate the 
loyalty of a conquered people, but had used its power for extortion and the gratifi- 
cation of the lust of those in power. It is for this reason that the speech in the 
Agricola contains a more general statement of grievances than the corresponding 
speech of Boudicca in the Annals. The exposition of this state of affairs is assigned 
with dramatic feeling to the utterances of the Britons themselves, and at the same 
time the writer relieves himself of the odium of directing so serious an indictment 
against the predecessors of Agricola. That some such explanation of the spirit which 
had characterized the earlier administration of the province was necessary to afford a 
setting for the reforms of Agricola appears at the beginning of chap. 19: Ceterwm 
animorum provinciae prudens, simulque doctus per aliena experimenta parum profict 
armis st inuriae sequerentur, causas bellorum statuit excidere. The reforms which 
are then enumerated are, with approximate exactness, corrections of the abuses which 
are complained of in the indirect speech under consideration. The concluding words 
of this section set the matter in a very clear light (20 int.): haec primo statim anno 
comprimendo egregiam famam pact circumdedit, quae vel incuria vel intolerantia 
priorum haud minus quam bellum timebatur. 


The foregoing argument has been directed primarily toward showing that, in 
spite of the historical form in which Tacitus has cast his material from chap. 10 to 
39, it still remains essentially biographical, with the encomiastic connotation which 
that word implies. In explanation of the form I have suggested above the desire to 
lend greater persuasiveness to encomium by the appearance of an objective historical 
record and to avoid the invidiousness of direct praise. That Tacitus, at all events 
(whether by design or not), has attained this end is evinced perhaps most conclu- 
sively by the very fact that so many modern readers have found in the Agricola a 
historical rather than a biographical character. But for his own time I think it may 
be fairly questioned whether Tacitus’s eloquence was interpreted otherwise than as an 
encomiastic utterance of filial piety, and by this I have no thought of impugning 
either the character of Agricola or the honesty of Tacitus, but only of interpreting the 
literary treatment of the subject. It is perhaps no more than an unwarranted 
suspicion which I would raise concerning the probable treatment of the episode of 
Agricola’s administration of Britain in the lost books of the Histories. But the fact 
that subsequent historians do not refer to the operations of Agricola in Britain 
(Dio Cassius merely alludes to the desertion of the Usipian cohort and the consequent 

50 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 25 





circumnavigation of the island) would lend color to the conjecture that Tacitus 
himself, in his capacity of historian, claimed less for the merit of Agricola than he had 
urged in the rdle of encomiast of his father-in-law. One bit of evidence Tacitus 
himself affords, which is at least significant of the difference between encomium and 
history. For Tacitus, although writing not earlier than the year 97, says simply, in 
explanation of his reason for describing the geography of Britain: quia tum primum 
perdomita est. But in the Histories (I, 2) he adds the important qualification: per- 
domita Britannia et statim missa. It is significant of the difference in the character 
of the two works that the Agricola contains not a word of the transient nature of the 
conquests recorded. They are treated throughout as permanent results. The loss of 
Britain, to be sure, might have been treated as a té7ros WexriKds against Domitian, and 
in a historical treatment it would inevitably have found a place with the other disasters 
enumerated in chap. 41; but in general it could only have been to lessen the praise of 
Agricola to remind the reader that the fruits of his victories were, at the time of 
writing, already lost. Of the same character is the unhistorical exaggeration in the 
treatment of Agricola’s explorations to which allusion has been made above. That a 
conscientious historian might distribute emphasis very differently in biographical and 
historical treatment of the same subject-matter is well shown by Polybius’s allusion 
to his life of Philopoemen (X, 21 (24), 5 ff.). After indicating the external differences 
which would characterize the historical treatment of the deeds in which Philopoemen 
played, a leading réle, he adds (8): “For while biography, being encomiastic in 
nature, demands a summary presentation of deeds with rhetorical amplification of 
them, history, being indifferent to praise or blame, calls for a truthful and accurate 
account of events with the consequences which follow upon each.” ” 

Much confusion has been introduced into the discussion of the problems relating 
to the Agricola by the failure to separate the question of literary form from the ques- 
tion of ulterior political or apologetic purpose, which many have found in the 
biography. So, for instance, Schanz cites Hibner’s and Andresen’s theories of 
literary form as alternative views to Hoffmann’s theory of the apologetic character of 
the treatise. But, while it is too much to say that there is no relation between these 
questions, yet it is obvious that a laudatio funebris might be an apologetic, political 
manifesto (as we know, in fact, that such works effected a distortion of history in the 
interest of certain families), and the same end could obviously have been attained 
through the medium of a historical narrative. Generally speaking, therefore, any 
demonstrable theory of form would not be inconsistent with any further demonstrable 
theory of purpose or tendency. 

For the settlement of the question of a possible political motive in the portrayal 
of the last years of Agricola, our knowledge of the inner history of the time is 
unfortunately inadequate. Practically all those who have found in the treatise the 


25 @omep yap EKetvos O TOTOS, UTapXwHY eyKwULATTLKOS, amypTEL © Tis taTopias, KowWwos Hy Emaivou Kai Woyov, CnTet Tov aAnOH Kai 
Tov Keharawéd5y Kai per’ avéjoews Tov mpakewy aToAoyLoLOV: OUTWS Tov pet amobetkews Kal TMV ExagTOLS TapEeTOLEVWY TVAAOYLOMOY, 


51 


96 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





program of a political creed, or a vindication of the memory of Agricola (and so of 
the moderate party) against the charge of dishonorable servility, have based their 
theories in the first instance upon the famous words in chap. 42: Domitiani vero 
natura praeceps ir tram, et quo obscurior, eo inrevocabilior, moderatione tamen 
prudentiaque Agricolae lenebatur, quia non contumacia neque inani iactatione liber- 
tatis famam fatumque provocabat.  sciant, quibus moris est inlicita mirari, posse 
etiam sub malis principibus magnos viros esse, obsequiumque ac modestiam, st 
industria ac vigor adsint, eo laudis escendere, quo plerique per abrupta, sed in 
nullum rei publicae usum, ambitiosa morte inclaruerunt. 

Students of Tacitus have debated hotly and with easy honors whether the prin- 
ciple here laid down is consistent with the general attitude of our author elsewhere 
toward the question at issue—a question which, from the time of Tiberius at least, had 
come to be one of the most vital problems of practical ethics for every great and influ- 
ential public character. Evidence from Tacitus’s own utterances can be adduced on 
both sides. We can show that the very men—Thrasea, Rusticus, Helvidius— whose 
contumacy is here so vehemently assailed, are elsewhere touched with a kindlier hand, 
and to the description of their deaths there is lent the suggestion of martyrdom. Even 
in the Agricola, but a few pages farther on, Tacitus recalls with horror the share which 
the senate was compelled to have in shedding the innocent blood of Helvidius, Rusticus, 
Senecio (45). And similarly at the opening of the work these same men are instanced 
as martyrs whose deaths put to blush the acquiescence of himself and his compeers 
(dedimus profecto grande patientiae documentum). Surely in these passages there is 
no thought of sparing himself for his share in the degradation of those last years of 
Domitian’s tyranny. Nor does Tacitus fail to record elsewhere with manifest admira- 
tion utterances which reveal a bold but fruitless independence of spirit. On the other 
hand, it is true that he praises the moderation of men who have known how to steer a 
middle course inter abruptam contumaciam et deforme obsequium (Ann., 1V, 20). But 
the essential difference between this passage and other analogous expressions of politi- 
cal prudence, as, for instance, the one just cited, lies in the form and tone. Elsewhere, 
with a certain sadness and resignation, he commends acquiescence because of the fruit- 
lessness of opposition. Here he passes quickly from the fact of Agricola’s submission 
to praise of his conduct, as an example of the glory that it was possible for a good 
man of vigor and efficiency to win under a bad emperor. For myself I cannot escape 
the feeling that the arrogant émixpiows (sciant quibus, etc.) rings false, and betrays 
that the writer is making the worse appear the better cause for the ends which filial 
devotion demanded. For, in the first place, it is not easy to see what there could have 
been in Agricola’s dignified acceptance, when it should be offered him, of a high pro- 
consular post, which Tacitus could honestly designate as a “seeking for notoriety and 
a challenging of his own fate by contumacy and a vainglorious affectation of inde- 
pendence.” Would not the more honorable and patriotic course have been to accept 
the reward which his merit had won and await the consequences? Agricola, of his 

52 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 27 








own motion, we are led to believe, would have followed this course, but was finally 
persuaded and terrified by his friends (swadentes simul terrentesque pertraxere ad 
Domitianum) into asking the ignoble favor of release from service. The humiliation 
of the request to Agricola is the aspect of the narrative which most impresses the 
modern reader; we are less concerned that Domitian did not blush at the odiousness 
of the benefit he conferred. Is this, then, that middle course between contwmacia and 
deforme obsequium which Tacitus praised in Lepidus? Surely Tacitus has not spared 
his pen to make us realize how hideous the acquiescence of Agricola was. After such 
a scene we might concede a final judgment like that which is accorded to L. Piso (Ann., 
VI, 10): nullius servilis sententiae sponte auctor et quotiens necessitas ingrueret 
sapienter moderans. But one is led to the suspicion of special pleading, which always 
played a large réle in encomium, when we are asked to condemn the simple course of 
honor which Agricola might have pursued as headstrong and boastful, and are expected 
to admire as the highest political wisdom a maxim generalized from a scene of humili- 
ating submission. 

But I claim only to give my feeling, based upon the repeated perusal of this 
passage and upon a comparison with utterances of related character elsewhere in 
Tacitus. I do not expect to carry conviction, on a subject which does not admit of 
positive demonstration, to those who, having weighed the matter, find nothing unnatu- 
ral or inconsistent in the treatment. But I would point out that, had Tacitus desired 
to give a favorable interpretation to an act of doubtful credit to his hero, he would 
have conformed entirely to the theories of encomiastic style in handling the matter as 
he has done here. Even Plutarch,” who writes as a biographer rather than as a pro- 
fessed encomiast, urges that defects of character which the exigencies of public life 
have imposed upon a man otherwise admirable are to be treated with an indulgent 
hand. The theory of encomium went further and prescribed rules for the encomiastic 
presentation of such defects. Aristotle, Rhet., 1367a, 32: Anmréov 6€ Kal Ta cUVEYyuUS 
Tos UTapXovoW ws Ta’Ta dvTA, Kal Tpos Erawov Kal Tpds Yroryor, olov TOV EvrAABH Yruypov 
kat eviPovrop Kat Tov nALov ypnoTov KTr. (as here the acquiescence of Agricola is 
called moderatio and prudentia, the other course which lay open to him contumacia 
and inanis iactatio libertatis) .. . . Kat éxactov & é« tay TapakodrovbotvvTwr del KaTa 
70 BédtoTov. The same doctrine as formulated by the late rhetorician Nicolaus 
Sophista (Sp. II, p. 481, 20) applies to the case in hand more accurately: «al elzrou 7 
éXdTTwpa EXEL, Kal TOdTO TEpacdueOa TrepicTérArAELY EvpnpmoTepols Aoyols, THY Secrlav 
evAdBeav Kal mpoundeav (cf. moderatione prudentiaque) Kkadobvtes, To b€ Opdcos 
avépeiav Kai evrpvxiarv, Kal bdos del TavTa éml TO KAANLOY epyatouevor. That even in a 
corrupt and debased state it is still possible for a man to attain distinction and lead an 
honorable life (posse etiam sub malis principibus magnos viros esse) had been affirmed 
by Seneca (De Tranq., 5, 3): ut scias et in adflicta republica esse occasionem sapienti 


26 CIMON, 2, 4: tas 5’ €x maBous Tivos 7 Ex MOALTLKAS avayKnS GpETHS TLWOS 7) Kalas TovNpEevMaTa VOMiCovTas ov det Tar mpobvuws 
EmLTpeXovaas Tais mpateoiy amaptias Kal Kypas €AAcimata “aAAoV evaToonmacvery KTA, 


53 


28 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





viro ad se proferendum." The principle must have been a more or less conventional 
one in encomiastic-apologetic literature, as Theon shows (Sp. II, p. 111, 25): Ae«réov 
bm... . Kal év roditela havrAy TEOpappmevos ov SuecTpady, arAa TOV KAP abTov apioTos 
éyeveto, wotrep IINdtwv év odyapyia. 

The rhetorical treatment of circumstances in which an honorable course of action 
is crossed by some exigency which leads to a less honorable course forms the subject 
of a considerable doctrine in the theory of encomium. It is presented, so far as I am 
aware, most fully by Cicero (De Inv., II, 166 ff.). The subject is introduced in 166 
with these words: ac de eo quidem genere honestatis quod ex omni parte propter se 
petitur satis dictum est; nune de eo in quo utilitas quoque adiungitur, quod tamen 
honestum vocamus, dicendum videtur. At 170 he passes to a new phase of the subject: 
quoniam ergo de honestate et de utiliate diximus, nunc restat ut de eis rebus, quas 
his attributas esse dicebamus, necessitudine et adfectione perscribamus. Concerning 
necessitudo he continues in 173: ac summa quidem necessitudo videtur esse honestatis ; 
huic proxima incolumitatis; . . . . hasce autem inter se saepe necesse est comparart 
(as in our passage of the Agricola incolumitas is accounted the wiser consideration 
because of the uselessness of opposition). Therefore, though honestas is the higher 
motive, we must consider which of the two is to be consulted (174): nam qua in re 
fieri poterit ut, cum incolumitati consuluerimus, quod sit in praesentia de honestate 
delibatum, virtute aliquando et industria recuperetur |cf. si industria ac vigor 
adsint in our passage of the Agricola] incolumitatis ratio videbitur habenda. In such 
a case vere poterimus dicere nos honestatis rationem habere, for only in personal 
safety will it be possible to consult the demands of honor for the future. Therefore 
vel concedere alteri vel ad conditionem alterius descendere vel in praesentia quiescere 
atque aliud tempus exspectare oportebit, provided only the cause which impels us to 
look to our temporary advantage (ad utilitatem) is found adequate quare de magni- 
ficentia aut de honestate quiddam derogetur. We must inquire, therefore, carefully 
into the conditions which justify such a course.” 


By way of summary of what has been said of the encomiastic character of the 
Agricola and of the bearing of this fact upon the style and upon the apologetic ten- 
dency of the work, may be noticed here Aristides’s formulation of four rules of enco- 
miastic treatment (Sp. II, p. 505, 10): AXauBavortar b€ of Erawa Kata Tpdrous Tésoapas, 
av&énoe Tapareihper TapaBorn evpnuia. Of each of these the Agricola has furnished 
examples. Of rhetorical amplification we have seen examples in detail in the invasion 
of Mona, the employment of a fleet, and especially in the calculated cumulative effect 
with which the complete discovery and conquest of Britain is presented. Of suppres- 

27Tt is a significant contrast to Tacitus’s application Tacitus in the passage of the Annals cited above concern- 
of the utterance that Seneca’s generalization follows the ing L. Piso (V1I,10): quwotiens necessitas ingrueret sapienter 
example of the trial and death of Socrates. moderans, and perhaps also in Agr., 33 extr.: incolumitas 


28The same subject is touched upon briefly by Quin- ac decus eodem loco sita sunt. 
fILIAN, III, 8,22. The theory is apparently alluded to by 


54 


GrorGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 29 








sion (mapadeis) there are some minor examples, to which Hoffmann especially has 
called attention, and I have noted above the fact that the transient character of 
Agricola’s conquests is not allowed to appear. Of the use of comparison (7rapaBory or 
avyxpiows ) many examples have been adduced, and we have seen that it is one of the 
most characteristic features of the style of the treatise. The most formal and elabo- 
rate example, in which Agricola is contrasted with Domitian and his generals (chap. 
41), is commented upon in the Appendix (p. 81). Of favorable interpretation (evdn- 
pia) of acts or events which were at best colorless, or perhaps even censurable, we 
have noted the explanation of the acerbitas of Agricola, and I have suggested that 
the émixpiows in 42 (sciant quibus, ete.) with its context seems to be a rhetorical 
defense of a course of conduct of doubtful credit. There are some other examples 
which might be instanced in this category, as the comment in chap. 6 on the inactivity 
of Agricola’s tribuneship: gnarus sub Nerone temporum quibus inertia pro sapientia 
fuit. 

I am aware that investigations of the sort here presented are likely to be looked 
upon as hypersceptical indictments of the historical accuracy of our sources. But with 
questions of historical fact we are here only incidentally concerned; the object of my 
study has been to define, if possible, the difference in literary treatment between encomi- 
astic biography and history. Unfortunately the means of direct comparison which the 
treatment of the same events in the Histories might have afforded are not available. 
In Xenophon the difference in the treatment of Agesilaus in the encomium of that 
name and in the Hellenica led scholars for a long time to dispute the authenticity 
of the former work. In Polybius, unfortunately, we do not possess the full historical 
treatment of Philopoemen, and all trace of the special biography of him has disap- 
peared. But that there was a considerable difference in the handling of the material 
in the two works we must believe on the authority of Polybius himself, as was indi- 
cated above. A pointed illustration of the differences between the two forms of liter- 
ary treatment is afforded by the inconsistencies which are revealed in Tacitus’s account 
of Corbulo in the latter part of the Annals. The immediate source of his information 
was, I believe, an encomiastic biography analogous to the Agricola. For large parts 
of his narrative he follows this closely, and thus introduces into history the tone and 
spirit of encomium. At other times he discredits its statements and endeavors to 
maintain the objectivity of the historian. The result is curiously inharmonious. But 
the detailed consideration of this question must be postponed to another time. It 
was on the basis of a long tradition of biographical literature, composed from the 
point of view of encomium, that Tacitus wrote the life of his father-in-law. That in 
many instances, as we have seen, details of treatment correspond to the theoretical 
precepts of the rhetoricians, is due rather to the biographical and encomiastic monu- 
ments: from which such principles were derived, than to a conscious observance of 
rhetorical theory itself. 


55 


30 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 








APPENDIX 


Some miscellaneous observations are here appended which it has not been found 
convenient to include in the continuous argument of the preceding: 


5, 2: prima castrorum rudimenta in Britannia Suetonio Paulino... . adprobavit, 
electus quem contubernio aestimaret. Cf. also 6, 18: electus a Galba ad dona templorum 
recognoscenda, ete. 9, 22: haud semper errat fama, aliquando et elegit. The encomiastic 
significance of these passages is set in somewhat clearer light by the precept of the rhetorician 
Theon (zepi éyxwpiov), Sp. II, p. 110, 25: det dé AapBavew kal ras kpices tov évdoEwr, Kabarep ot érat- 
voovres EXevny 61t Onoeds mpoexpive. Cf. also note on iudicium (43, 17) below. 

9, 10: uwbi officio satis factum, nullam ultra potestatis personam, tristitiam et adrogan- 
tiam et avaritiam exuerat. Sothe MSS. Rhenanus’s correction, which is generally adopted — 
nulla ultra potestatis persona. Tristitiam, ete—ascribes directly to Agricola qualities which a 
panegyrist could scarcely name even to deny. The correction of Urlichs— nihil ultra: potes- 
tatis personam, ete.—seems to me simpler, but I would retain the words tristitiam, adro- 
gantiam, avaritiam, which Urlichs brackets. Tacitus, in characterizing the potestatis personam, 
has allowed himself to ascribe to it, in the detached manner of a satirical historian, the conven- 
tional attributes of Roman provincial governors, unmindful that the mere mention of them in 
this connection conveys a suggestion scarcely to the praise of Agricola. One may compare the 
satirical remark at the end of chap. 21, which seems to suggest a sinister design in Agricola’s 
measures for the civilization of his province quite at variance with the writer’s purpose as an 
encomiast. Vide supra,p.11. A parallel example is afforded by Isoc., Huag., 78, which, though 
addressing a compliment to Nicocles, conveys a reflection upon the class to which he belongs: 
TpOTos Kal Lovos TH ev Tupavvid. kal TAOUTH Kal TpYdais OvTwV PirocoPelv Kal Toveiy erLKEXELpyKas. 

10, 6: Britannia ... . spatio ac caelo in orientem Germaniae, in occidentem Hispaniae 
obtenditur. So far as I am aware, spatio ac caelo are universally taken as ablatives (of respect) 
with Britannia, and as such have been felt to be and certainly are otiose. They are, however, 
I believe, datives in hendiadys (= spatio caeli) with obtenditur. Germaniae and Hispaniae 
are genitives depending upon them. The position of Britain in relation to Germany and to 
Spain is designated by in orientem and in occidentem respectively. “ Britain lies in the same 
latitude (spatio ac caelo . . . . obtenditur) as that of Germany on the east and of Spain on the 
west.” In contrast to this more general indication of geographical position, with relation to 
regions on the east and west, follows an exact designation of the southern boundary: Gallis in 
meridiem etiam inspicitur. The emphasis upon the proximity of Gaul may have been evoked 
by the inexact statement of Pliny, IV, 16, 30: ex adverso huius situs (the Low Countries) 
Britannia insula inter septentrionalem et occidentem iacet, Germaniae, Galliae, Hispaniae 
.... magno intervallo adversa. 

10,18: sed mare pigrum et grave remigantibus perhibent, ete. The phenomenon does not 
admit of a satisfactory explanation, if we think of Tacitus as describing something actually 
observed by the expedition of exploration sent out by Agricola. There surely could have been 
no difficulty in recognizing fields of floating sea-weed or ice or even adverse currents. The 
encountering of a belt of calm in the vicinity of the Shetland Islands (to which Furneaux refers) 
may haye seemed to lend confirmation to a widely diffused conception of the unknown outer 
ocean as a windless sea of almost immovable character. Walch cites a number of passages 
which allude to this in widely different periods of antiquity. In the discussions of this question 
I have not observed that the parallels afforded by Seneca Rhet., Swas. 1, have been cited: 
Deliberat Alexander an Oceanum naviget. His friends dissuade him from essaying so perilous 


56 


GrorGE LINcoLN HENDRICKSON 31 





a task: stat immotum mare, quasi deficientis in suo fine naturae pigra moles. ... . ipsum 
vero grave et defixum mare. 2 extr.: immobile profundum. 10: hic difficultatem naviga- 
tionis, ignotti maris naturam non patientem navigationis. 15 (Pedo.... in navigante 
Germanico dicit): ad rerum metas extremaque litora mundi\| nune illum, pigris immania 
monstra sub undis|| qui ferat, Oceanum, ete. Again, a little farther on: atque alium flabris 
intactum quaerimus orbem? But Tacitus, in Ann., II, 24, says: quanto violentior cetero mari 
Oceanus, ete. 

18, 23: qui classem, qui naves, qui mare expectabant. In explanation and defense of 
mare, Miss Katharine Allen, of the University of Wisconsin, has called my attention to Hist., 
II, 12 init.: possessa per mare et naves maiore Italiae parte. An example, somewhat analo- 
gous to this, of a loose use of mare is afforded by Tibullus, I, 3,50: nune mare, nunc leti 
mille repente viae, where it stands “praegnanti sensu .... pro nunc maris et navigationis 
pericula.” In our passage mare gathers up in forcible climax the content of the preceding 
expressions classem naves. It is in no sense a descending series. 

41, 18: sie Agricola simul suis virtutibus, simul vitiis aliorwm in ipsam gloriam 
praeceps agebatur. This well-known passage seems to have been very generally misinterpreted. 
Commentators have read into it more than it really contains, and have found it an extreme 
example of Tacitean compression (cf. Ernesti’s characterization of it as “acuminis captatio,” 
Walch, Wex, Furneaux, and the conjectures of Madyig and Baehrens). But the passage con- 
tains no suggestion that “Agricola’s glory was his doom.” It is merely the conclusion of a 
ovykptots, Which sets forth, by contrast to the weakness and inefficiency of Domitian and his 
generals, the swift growth of Agricola’s fame. The comparison begins with 41, 5: et ea 
insecuta tempora quae silert Agricolam non sinerent. There follow then the disasters (the 
negative side of the ovyxpiois — the vitia aliorum) which provoked popular clamor for Agricola, 
comparantibus cunctis vigorem et constantiam et expertum bellis animwm cum inertia et 
formidine ceterorum. The comparison concludes with the words in question: “ Agricola, not 
only by his own virtues, but by contrast with the weakness and inefficiency of others, was 
hurried to the very pinnacle of fame.” The correctness of this interpretation may be tested by 
comparison with the similar conclusion of a o¥yxpiots of Pompey with other generals, in Cicero, 
De imp. Pomp., 67: quasi Cn. Pompeium non cum suis virtutibus tum etiam alienis vitiis 
magnum esse videamus. . 

43, 16: satis constat lecto testamento Agricolae, quo coheredem optimae wuxori et 
piissimae filiae Domitianum scripsit, laetatum eum velut honore iudicioque. The quasi- 
technical character of this last phrase seems to have been overlooked. Furneaux (with Andresen) 
thinks that the words honore iudicioque distinguish the act and the thought, and renders “the 
mark of respect and the esteem implied in it;” and so essentially Gudeman. But iudiciwm is a 
terminus technicus in the legal language of wills and inheritances for the judgment which 
animates a bequest, and so for the bequest itself. This transition of meaning is well shown by 
Seneca, De Benef., 1V, 11, 4: quid... . cum testamentum ordinamus non beneficia nihil nobis 
profutura dividimus? .... atquinumquam magis iudicia nostra magis torquemus quam 
ubi remotis utilitatibus solum ante oculos honestum stetit. For suprema iudicia, or iudicia 
alone, in the sense of testamentwm see the passages in Forcellini, s. v., III, 13, of which Suet., 
Aug., 66, affords a good illustration: quamvis minime appeteret hereditates, wt qui numquam 
ex ignoti testamento capere quicquam sustinuerit, amicorum tamen suprema iudicia moro- 
sisstme pensitavit, neque dolore dissimulato si parcius aut citra honorem verborum, ete. 
(These last words cast some light upon honore in our passage. The honorem iudicii alone, 
citra honorem verborum, he did not desire.) Finally a parallel which sets the meaning of our 
passage in the clearest light, and shows that it is to be interpreted as hendiadys for honore 


57 








BY THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA 





iudicii, is afforded by the Laudatio Murdiae (C. I. L., VI, 10230), vs.6: viro certam pecuniam 
legavit ut ius dotis honore iudicii augeretur. (Cf. Vollmer ad loc., Jahrb., Suppl. Vol. XVIII, 
p. 487.) Cf. also Du Cange, s. v. tudicitwm. [I note that Ruperti, ad loc., makes allusion to the 
use of the word here noted, but without closer application to the interpretation of the passage.] 

44 init.: A transposition of sentences from the order preserved in the MSS. is a violent 
remedy and one justly regarded with extreme scepticism. But since we have ample evidence 
that errors in the sequence of ancient texts do occur, it is legitimate for the critic to point out 
apparent errors of this sort and to make such suggestions of restoration as are possible. This 
chapter begins with a brief statement of some external facts concerning Agricola: (1) his age, 
(2) his appearance. Then follows a considerable reflection that Agricola, though cut off in the 
prime of life, had attained all that long life could have granted: et ipse quidem, quamquam 
medio in spatio integrae aetatis ereptus, quantum ad gloriam longissimum aevum peregit. 
The position of these words is surprising, for such a reflection would more naturally have followed 
the statement of his age; nor can I think that et pse forms an appropriate transition from the 
preceding. There follows an epexegetical sentence: quippe et vera bona, quae in virtutibus sita 
sunt, impleverat, et consulari ac triumphalibus ornamentis praedito quid aliud adstruere 
fortuna poterat? The real goods of virtue and fame are here obviously contrasted with external 
goods of fortune, although as yet the latter have not been named. These then follow, as the 
third item of external character, in a manner which, as Furneaux remarks, appears irrelevant: 
(3) opibus nimiis non gaudebat, speciosae non contigerant. As a matter of arrangement it 
would have seemed more natural to have placed the third statement of external facts imme- 
diately after the second, before proceeding to the reflections which follow (2), especially since 
these reflections are rather in sequence with (1) than with (2). But further, and more decisively, 
we should look for (8) to precede quippe et vera bona, so that these words may look back in 
proper antithesis to opibus. 

An arrangement of the passage which would seem to meet all the difficulties which I have 
named, and which others (especially Furneaux and Gudeman) have raised, would be as follows: 
(1) natus erat Agricola, ete. .... (2) quod si habitum quoque eius posteri noscere velint, etc., 
.... libenter. (3) opibus nimiis non gaudebat, speciosae non contigerant. [From this state- 
ment of his sma]! material wealth Tacitus passes to the suggestion of his real good fortune.] Filia 
atque uxore superstitibus potest vidert etiam beatus incolumi dignitate, florente fama, salvis 
adfinitatibus et amicitiis, futura effugisse. [In contrast to this statement of his good fortune 
in the integrity of his fame and the safety of his family and friends, Tacitus turns to the fact of 
Agricola’s own death and shows that it was not untimely.] Ht ipse quidem, quamquam medio 
in spatio integrae aetatis ereptus, quantum ad gloriam, longissimum aevum peregit. quippe 
et vera bona [in contrast to the opibus above], quae in virtutibus sita sunt, impleverat, et consu- 
lari ac triumphalibus ornamentis praedito quid aliud adstruere fortuna poterat? nam sicut et 
<non licuit> durare in hane beatissimi saeculi lucem ac principem Traianum videre.... 
ita festinatae mortis grande solacium tulit evasisse postremum illud tempus, ete. [This sen- 
tence, introduced appropriately by nam, anticipates the suggestion that fortune might have 
granted him to see the reign of Trajan, and answers it by showing that it could only have been 
at the cost of witnessing the last days of Domitian. The balanced clauses nam sicut.... 
ita would perhaps best be rendered by “for though .... still.’] I have explained this, though 
it is obvious enough, to meet an objection which will naturally be raised to the transposition 
proposed. It will be said that this last sentence is the natural complement of futura effugisse, 
and it cannot be denied that the sequence of these two parts as they stand is perfectly satisfactory. 
I would only urge that the sequence with quid aliud adstruere fortuna poterat is equally 
natural, as I have endeavored to point out. 


58 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 83 





44,14: nam sicut et <non licuitd durare in hance beatissimi saeculi lucem ae principem 
Traianum videre, quad augurio votisque apud nostras auris ominabatur, ete. Lipsius com- 
ments: “mirum si tot annos praesagiit. Nee de Traiano ulla spes aut suspicio, nisi si deus men- 
tem illi movit, aut nostro scriptori blanditia; quod non solet.” Cf. also Hoffmann, loc. cit. (supra, 
p. 5), p. 273. Similar auguries concerning Trajan are reported by Pliny, Pam., 5 and 94, and by 
Dio Cassius, 67, 12,1. They are all undoubtedly ex eventu, including our passage of the Agricola, 
It was a conventional feature of encomiastic literature” to assign to an early period in the life of 
the subject of encomium prophecies or signs of future greatness, even if they must be invented. 
In this case the augury is at once a source of praise to Agricola and of flattery to the emperor. 
The attitude of the theorists on this point is given by Menander. In speaking of portents and 
siens foretelling at the time of birth the future greatness of the subject of encomium, he says 
(Sp. IIL, p. 371, 10): kav pev 7 7 tovdrov rept Tov Baucrrea, e&epyacar: ay de oldv Te Wy mda Kal 
rovety TovTO mOavas, py Katoxve. And they did not hesitate, as Pliny abundantly shows. With- 
out the cheerful injunction to persuasive invention of the necessary auguries, Quintilian presents 
thesame theory in III, 7,11: alla quoque interim ex eo quod ante ipsum fuit tempore trahentur, 
quae responsis vel auguriis futuram claritatem promiserint. 

45 init.: non vidit Agricolam obsessam curiam, ete. This is commonly designated by the 
editors as an imitation of Cicero, De Oratore, III, 2, 8 (referring to the death of Crassus), and per- 
haps no closer parallel can be cited. However, Morowski (De Rhetoribus Lat., Cracovia, 1892, 
p- 15) has pointed out that the rhetorical figure here used is a conventional one in the declamatory 
literature of the first century A. D. in describing the deaths of great men. For the whole con- 
clusion of the Agricola, from 44 to the end, one should compare Seneca Rhet., Suas., 6, 5 and 6. 

The observation suggests a concluding word: We shall not understand the style of Tacitus, 
nor shall we be in a position properly to judge of the content of his words, until we come to see 
and to feel the affinity of his nature for much which, in our modern aversion to literary artifice, 
we designate contemptuously as rhetorical. There is a great gulf between Tacitus and the 
declaimers, but it is not a total difference of kind, as, for example, the difference between Seneca 
and Epictetus or Fronto and Marcus Aurelius. Up toa certain point, in the technique of lan- 
guage and rhetorical effect, Tacitus is one of them. But beyond that, it is character and range 
of vision, rather than fundamentally divergent ideals, which differentiate him from them. 


29 Of. NORDEN (“ Ein Panegyricus auf Augustus’’) on VirG., Aen., VI, 799, Rh. Mus., Vol. LIV, p. 468. 





A STICHOMETRIC SCHOLIUM TO THE MEDEA OF 
EURIPIDES 





A STICHOMETRIC SCHOLIUM TO THE MEDEA OF EURI- 
PIDES, WITH REMARKS ON THE TEXT OF DIDYMUS 


Tenny FRANK 


THE line ovyn ddpous ela Bao’ iv’ éotpwrat Xéyos, which occurs twice in our manu- 
scripts of the Medea of Euripides (vss. 41 and 380) and is cited in a third place (vs. 
356) by a scholiast, has been much discussed both because of its own inherent diffi- 
culties and because of the interesting but perplexing scholia attached to it. I propose 
in this paper to suggest a solution of the difficulties connected with the scholia, and to 
point out some new conclusions to which it may lead with reference to certain readings 
in the manuscripts of the time of Didymus, the author of the criticism contained in 
the scholia. 

The passage in question occurs first in all our manuscripts as vs. 41 of the Medea. 
The nurse is speaking : 

ey@oa THvVdEe, Setmaivw Té VWY, 
40  Onntov don pacyavov bv Hratos, 

siyn Sdpous ela Baa’, tv’ éotpwrat dEyxos, 

y Kal TUpavvoy TOV TE YnMaVTA KTaVH 

KaTreta pelt cuppopav AaBn Tia. 

dev) yap. 
Here the line is bracketed by all modern editors' as having been inappropriately 
inserted from vs. 380. 

After vs. 8356 Didymus is said by the scholiast to have found the same line, although 
it is not found in any of our manuscripts in that place and no editor has proposed to 
restore it. Here the text reads (the king of Corinth is the speaker) : 


mpouvveTr@ O€ c0L, 
el o 1) TrLovoa AapTras dYreTat Oeod 
Kal Taidas évtos Thade Tepuovev x Ooves, 
Oavei- A€AEKTar pdOos arpevdis 66e. 
355 viv ©, ef pévey det, wip’ ed’ nucpav pilav: 
ov yap Tt Opdces Sevvov av poBos pw exer. 


To the last line of this passage the following scholium is attached: ov ydp 71 dpaces | 


1ELMSLEY rejects vs. 41. ‘‘ Nostro loco minus conveni- p. 59) alone would read the line here rather than at 380. 
unt ut recte Musgravius. Metuit nutrix ne liberos inter- KrRCHHOFF brackets yss. 40 and 41: “‘ Huc retractos e vy. 
ficiat Medea. Qua sententia neque ovyy Sopovs eicBaca 381, 2’?(= NAucCK, 379, 380). Nauck rightly rejects vss. 40-43 
dixisset neque tv’ éorpwrat Aexos .. . . Non opus est ut bis (Euripideische Studien, I, p. 108). We shall examine his 
legantur haec verba quae melius infra y. 374 (= Nauck, reasons later, together with those of DINDORF and PRINz- 
880) quam hic mihi videntur.’’ So also BRUNCK and Porson, WECKLEIN, who reject vss. 38-48. 


VALCKENAER (ad Phoen., 1286) and Pierson ( Verisimilia, 


63 


4 A STICHOMETRIC SCHOLIUM TO THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES 








AiSupos peta Todtov pepe” TO“ ouyn Sopmous eicBao’ ty’ Ectpwtar A€yos” Kal péudetar ToIs 
Umoxpitais ws akalpws avTov TdacovoLy. 

Finally the line occurs in what is now generally conceded to be its proper place, 
after vs. 379. Medea speaks : 


> iD & / a > n aN 
ovk 010’ orroia mp@tov eyxeipa, pirat, 
TOTEpov Uparyw SAua vupdiKov Trupt, 
a \ ” , x, 7 
}) Onxtov dow pdcyavoy &’ HraTos, 
380  cuyn Sopous ela Bao’ iv’ Ertpwrar rA€xOos. 


Valckenaer and Pierson have not been followed by subsequent critics in consid- 
ering the line in place at 41 rather than here. It is the scholium upon the line in this 
place which has given difficulty: 

abe Karas Keita. Aidupos onmeodrar bt KaK@sS of broKpiTal Taccovolw:—émrl TaV 
dv0 70 Savyn Sdpous eiaBaca:” Kavow 7) opa—w adtovs (Schwartz). E (= Parisianus 
2712) reads éwi trav &’. A Venetian edition of the sixteenth century, whose scholia 
are often based on those of E, reads émi tév dvoiv (Dindorf, VII, p. 32, 5, note). 
Kirchhoff emends to ét toi dvoiv. Elmsley (ad vs. 373) says: “Nescio quid sig- 
nificat émt t@v B’.” Dindorf (Huripides, VII, ad loc.) punctuates as follows: ode 
Karas Keita, Addupos onpmeodrar 6Tt KaK@s of UToKpLTal Tdcoovew ert TaY dv0 TO “ cLyN 
dduous eicBaca,” Kavow i) ofd—w avtovs. With this phrasing évi tov dvo is made to 
refer to the two alternatives cavow 7) ofa. This interpretation is impossible. ovyy 
dduous eioBaca refers of course only to the one line immediately preceding it, and 
there never has been any valid objection to its appropriateness in connection with that 
line. J. van Leeuwen (Commentatio de Antigona Sophoclea) punctuates: Adédupos 
. 2. . Tadccovew.— ert Tav dvo0 TO ayn Somos eiaBaca, Kavow 7) ofakw aitovs. This 
makes the sentence A/évuos . . . . tdsoovow contradict the words which directly pre- 
cede (@be Kad@s Keita) without an adversative particle, at the same time leaving ézt 
Tay ovo quite without connection. Furthermore, both of these readings necessitate the 
assumption that the line in question was, in the opinion of Didymus, in place else- 
where, but an interpolation here—an assumption which can hardly be entertained. 
Nor does it explain the scholium at vs. 356. 

Verrall (Medea, ad vs. 379) offers an emendation based on the fact that the line 
in question is also found at vs. 41. He says, after quoting the scholium: ‘ éwi rav 
évo is a corruption of the reference to the interpolation ; if the text of the prologue 
agrees with that of Didymus, which there is no reason to doubt, it should be ét 7@ p’, 


ye 


2Mr. VERRALL ( Medea, ad 356) objects to Nauck’s inter- of the word, as equivalent to “give as a reading, cite,” 
pretation of the word épe (cf. NAucK, Ewuripideische Stu- which is of course what Nauck means. Compare, in the 
dien, I, p. 118): ‘*‘ Uebrigens kannte Didymus, wie wir aus hypothesis to the Rhesus (Scuwarvrz, Scholia in Euripiden, 
den Scholien wissen, nach 356 noch einen Vers.’ ‘The II, 324, 10): mpodoyor 5é Sirrae Pépovrac; ibid., 1.12: év évios 
scholium merely says,” contends Mr. Verrall, ‘pepe... ..,  5€ T@v avreypadwr Erepds Tis he petac mpodoyos; also scholium 
that is, Didymus brings or transfers the line to this place, ad Hec., 13 (ScHWARTZ, I, p. 13): év wévroe tots avtiypados 
not says that he found it there.” But I submit that readers “Hw pbéperac cai xown avayvwors hy. 
of scholia will find themselves quite familiar with this use 


64 


ot 


TENNY FRANK 








‘at line 40.’ For the position of the note and the nature of the case show that the 
observation of Didymus referred to both 379-80, which correspond to 40 and 41. 
The cause of the corruption is the resemblance in cursive writing of »’ (resoapdxovta) 
and #’, one form of f’ (dvo).” 

This, however, involves Mr. Verrall in a misinterpretation of the important scho- 
lium on vs. 356, of which he says (ad vs. 356): “I submit that this scholium must 
have slipped to the wrong line and belongs in reality at 380.” Now, a right under- 
standing of both scholia, which I think can be attained, will convince one that both 
are now in their proper place and that they are to be interpreted with reference to 
each other. We shall also find good reason to conclude that vs. 41 was not in Didymus’s 
manuscript; and, if it was not there, of course he did not refer to it. 

Von Arnim (Medea, ad 379), if I understand his meaning, interprets émt tov dvo 
as equivalent to ‘‘in two places,” @. e., at vs. 40 and at vs. 356— which is not the Greek 
way of expressing that idea. 

Finally Evald Bruhn (Lucubrationes Euripideae, p. 249, note) confesses that he 
does not understand this phrase: ‘“‘Numero autem binario id significari in codicibus 
et post 379 et post 40 legi versum de quo agimus fortasse recte suspicor; eum tamen 
sensum elicere e verbis é7i T@v dvo non possum.” The first part he understands still 
less: “‘Scribendum fortasse est: Adduuos de> onpeodrar. Didymus enim qui post 
356 legi illum versum iubeat, aperte dissideat ab eo qui scribit @de Kad@s Keira.” But 
we shall see that the two phrases do not contradict each other and that a dé would be 
out of place. Besides, we can hardly credit a critic like Didymus with the notion that 
these verses would be in place at 356. 

We have seen how the interpretations hitherto offered have failed to explain the 
difficult questions which have been asked, namely: (1) What is the meaning of the 
scholium on 379? (2) How is this scholium connected with that on 356? (3) Why 
is Didymus silent about the occurrence of the line at 41, while he comments on it upon 
its later appearance ? These questions I think will be answered if the following 
interpretation of the troublesome phrase é7t tv dvo0 meets with approval. 

Some redactor of the scholia who had access to the notes of Didymus found that 
that famous critic cited the line ovyn démous eto Baca after vs. 356, with a note accusing 
the actors of having inappropriately introduced it there (see the scholium on 356 
already quoted). It was to be expected then that, in commenting on the line in its 
proper place, vs. 380, he should express his opinion as to its fitness in the latter 
place —which he does by saying ®d€ kad@s xeittac—and, further, should refer to the 
note and citation of Didymus in the preceding place. This reference it is which has 
been corrupted into the meaningless words él ré@v vo, and the reference read origi- 
nally émt 7@ Tv’, “at line 352” (7. e., 356, Schwartz). The first step in the corruption 
was probably the loss of the second 7, thus: t@7v8 became t@vB, whence rav 8. If 
this emendation is correct, the scholium should read thus: @d¢ KaA@s Keitar. Aidupos 
onpeodtar orl Kaxa@s of broKpital Tadccovow ert To TYB TO “ ouvyn Souous eioBaca,” and 


65 


6 A STICHOMETRIO SCHOLIUM TO THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES 








one might paraphrase it thus: ‘‘Here the line is in the proper place (not at 357). 
Didymus marks the line for the reason that the actors are wrong in bringing it into 
the text at 352.” At 352 (356, Schwartz) he had already said: “After this line 
Didymus cites the line ovyn Odpous, K.7.rX., and blames the actors for bringing it into 
the text here, where it is out of place.” 

The last clause of the scholium, cavow 7) ofdfw avdtovs, seems to be a late attempt 
at an explanation of ést rév dvo after the corruption had taken place, and as such it is 
to be rejected. Bruhn’s theory that it is a paraphrase of vss. 378, 379 is less inviting. 
He says: “Quibus verbis vix opus est moneam novum contineri scholium 878-79 
complectens.” (Lue. Hur., p. 249, note. ) 

This emendation gives a natural interpretation to the whole scholium upon ys. 380 
as well as to the one upon ys. 356, which was thought by Elmsley as well as Verrall to 
be out of place. Moreover, Didymus is the ultimate source of both scholia, and the 
question involved in both—that of an actor’s interpolation—is the same. This 
naturally leads one to connect the reference in ért tv é6vo0 with the corresponding 
scholium upon vs. 356, rather than with vs. 41, of which Didymus seems not even to 
have spoken. Finally, the corruption of émt 7@ tvf to éwt Tv fis certainly an easier 
one than that which Mr. Verrall assumes. 

Though I do not know of similar references by verse in the scholia of the drama- 
tists, there is sufficient actual manuscript evidence to make us certain that the method 
of citation by verse must have been a common one. Asconius* has at least twenty- 
five references by verse numbers to lines of Cicero; ef. in Cie. Pis., p. 3, Orelli: circa 
versum LXXX,; p. 6: circa versum a primo CCLXX, ete. Ina similar way the 
scholiast of Oribasius* refers by ot/you to the passages in the works of Galen which 
were the source of the later author’s statements. See on Oribasius, LV, p. 532, 24 
(ed. Daremberg), the scholiast’s reference to Galen: a0 Tod ¢ Tis OeparrevTiKis ws 
m™po o otixywv Tov TéXovs. See also the scholia on Oribasius, III, pp. 686, 22; 689, 12; 
IV, pp. 533, 4; 538, 1; 534, 6. The last citation reads: azo Tob a’ BiBdlou Ths cvve- 
Yeas TOY YElpoupyouLevwy peTa TO TpiTOV TOD BLBriov, ws weTa Uv aTiXoUS THS apxis TOD 
opotov Kepadatov. Some examples of the same method of reference are found in 
Diogenes Laertius;’ so, for example, in VII, 188: ta 8 adra gnou (Xpvourmos) Kai 
év TO TEpl TOV pr Ov éavTa aipeTov .. . ., €v 6€ TH TpiTw Tepl SiKaiov KaTa Tors YLALoOUS 
atixous (= “circa versum millesimum,” Wachsmuth) «at tovs amo@avovtas és Blew 
xerevov. Similar references occur at VII, 33, and VII, 187. As the above-mentioned 
references are to prose works, they are usually not exact, being modified by some word 
like circa, os, Kata. ‘The implication is, of course, that the works referred to were 
way by the hundred-line measure with the sixteen-syllable 


numbered in the ordinary’ 


3 Cf. the discussion by Rrrscun, Upuscula, I, pp. 78 ff. 6 Of. Fuur, Rheinisches Museum, XXXVII (1882), p. 468; 
4 Of. DIELS, Hermes, XVII (1882), pp. 381 ff. Scnuanz, Hermes, XVI (1881), p. 809; Curist, Die Atticus- 
3 ausgabe des Demosthenes; GRAuX, Revue de philologie, IL 


» Of. WacusmuTH, Rheinisches Museum, XXXIV (1879), (1878), pp. 97 ff. 


p. 39; ScHanz, Hermes, XVI (1881), p. 310; RonpE, Rheini- 
sches Museum, XXXIV (1879), p. 562, note. 


66 


TENNY FRANK 7 





hexameter as a basis for the prose line. The line of the epic and drama was, generally 
speaking, a fixed thing, for even the lyrical parts were early arranged by cola,’ and an 
exact reference to line could therefore be given. 

I know of no other instance in the scholia to the dramatists of a numerical refer- 
ence to the line of a play, nor of such a method of reference in the scholia to the other 
poets. But it certainly would be surprising if the grammarians who made it their 
business to comment upon the dramatists never hit upon this convenient device of 
reference by line, which was used quite freely in prose works. The same device, as 
Mr. Capps* has pointed out, was probably used even by the engraver of the Soteric 
inscription of Delphi of the year 272 B. C. The engraver, it seems, had omitted two 
names from the list of performers (each name forming a line) and added them at the 
end, each preceded by a numeral (El and Fl) referring to the line of the stone after 
which the name had been omitted. This is the earliest instance known, so far as I 
can learn, of the employment of the line-number as a means of reference. 

In accounting for a discrepancy of a few lines, such as one is hereby led to assume 
between the text of the critic who used Didymus’s notes, who calls it vs. 352, and 
e. g. Schwartz, who makes it vs. 357, one could hardly contend with confidence that 
the difference represents the number of lines which haye been interpolated since the 
scholium was written ; for such an assumption would have to rest upon a much more 
precise knowledge of the colometry of the parodos than we at present possess. Our 
emendation does, however, throw some new light on the state of the manuscript of 
Euripides which Didymus used. In the first place, it proves that the scholium to 
vs. 856, which has often been assumed to be out of place, is in its proper position, and 
that some manuscripts of Didymus read the line ovyy dépous eto Baca, etc., after that 
line. Secondly, by establishing the position and trustworthiness of that scholium, it 
proves that vss. 355, 356, which are thought by Nauck and Prinz-Wecklein to be an 
interpolation, were found in the manuscript of Didymus; for the scholium reads, as 
we have seen: od ydp te dpdzes| Addupos peta Tobtov péper TO “ ovyn Odpous K.T.rA.;” 
and, as one could not possibly find any meaning for this line in this place if not con- 
nected with vss. 355, 356, it follows that the latter lines were in the text when Didymus 
wrote his note. One may even add, as a further suggestion, that their presence in so old 
a text argues to some extent for their authenticity. Nauck (Huripideische Studien, 
Medea, p. 118) questions them because they seem to weaken the forceful words which 
precede, and the Prinz-Wecklein edition follows him in rejecting them; but there is 
no real contradiction in thought, nor do I see any other adequate reason for rejection. 
Finally, we are led to the conclusion that vs. 41 was probably not in the text of 
Didymus; for it is reasonable to assume that, if it had been there, the critic would 
have pronounced judgment upon the appropriateness of the line there, as he evidently 


7 Cf. VON WILAMOWITZ-MOLLENDORFF, Herakles, I!, pp. XXXI (1900), pp. 128 ff. The inscription in question is No. 
140 ff. 2564 in Vol. II, 6, of CoLtLirz’s Sammlung der griechischen 


8 Transactions of the American Philological Association, Dialekt-Inschriften, ed. Baunack. 


67 


8 A STICHOMETRIO SCHOLIUM TO THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES 





did at 356 and at 380. So, for instance, a scholium on ys. 148 says: todro dé ’A7roA- 
Aodwpos THS Mndetas dnciv ... . Tos & Umoxpitas cvyKéev, and at the end of the 
alleged confusion (vs. 169) the charge is repeated: "AzroAAcdwpos pév ody pyow o 
Tapceds Tis audiBorlas aitious eivar Tors troKpitas ovyKéovTas TA YopLKa TOIS UT TIS 
Mndevas Aeyopevais. 

Now it is generally agreed that vs. 40 must be dealt with in the same way as vs. 
41, since the two are mere repetitions of vss. 379, 380, which are evidently in their proper 
place there. It has already been remarked that Nauck rejects the two following lines 
also; and with good reason. It is quite evident that vss. 42, 43 depend on vs. 40. It 
follows that they were written after the insertion of vss. 40,41. The whole passage 
in question very inappropriately gives anticipation of the plot, which had not yet 
assumed definite shape. The fears of the nurse concerned the children only (cf. vss. 
36, 98,105). If the four lines are rejected, the text reads éy@da Tyvde, dematva Té wv: 
den ydp. It is quite evident that dev is an echo of depaiva, and that they are not 
to be separated. Euripides frequently uses this very effective balance; cf. Orest., 
102-3, dédouxna . . . . Seevdov yap; Phoen., 269-70, poBovpebar . .. . yap deva ; Orest., 
1519-20, dewov . . . . dédocnas. Now, as we have found good reason for the belief 
that Didymus (whose text was probably better than ours) did not have vs. 41, and as 
the four lines 40-43 are of a kind, and from the same source, we have an additional 
argument for their rejection. We may safely date them as post-Didymean. 

I cannot agree, however, with Dindorf (Euripides, VII, p. 266; he is followed 
by Prinz-Wecklein), who finds here an interpolation of six lines. He says: ‘‘Glossator 
non animadvertit interpolatoris fraudem, qui post versum 37 versus intulit sex (Sapeta 

. . Ady Twa) quorum quattuor ipse scripsit, duos ex. vss. 379-80 hue rettulit.” 


68 


THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED 
TO QUINTUS CICERO 





THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO 
QUINTUS CICERO 


GrorGe Lincotn HENDRICKSON 


AUTHENTICITY 


Ir is now just ten years (I write in September, 1902) since I published in the 
American Journal of Philology (Vol. XIII, pp. 200-212) a brief paper in which, as I 
thought, I was able to adduce conclusive evidence of the spuriousness of the Commen- 
tariolum. Its authenticity had already been called into question on quite inadequate 
evidence by A. Eussner in a Wiirzburg Program of 1872, while Mommsen in the third 
volume of his Staatsrecht of the year 1887 (p. 484 and note) had alluded to the work 
as spurious, but without discussion of reasons for his belief apart from a single example 
of erroneous statement relating to the ordo equester. Eussner’s discussion was 
answered at considerable length by Professor Tyrrell, first in Hermathena and later in 
Vol. I of his edition of the letters. But while the many trivial arguments of Eussner 
fell an easy prey to the almost indignant pen of Professor Tyrrell, yet it is, I fancy, an 
impartial verdict, that he succeeded in refuting Eussner rather than in defending 
Quintus.’ 

The question is naturally not a burning one, but (apart from private expressions 
of opinion which came to me) in the course of time I noted that my argument had won 
a few adherents, of whom I may name Professor Gudeman in his treatment of ‘“ Liter- 
ary Frauds Among the Romans” (Transactions of the Am. Phil. Ass'n, Vol. XXV, p. 
154, note 2), and Dr. L. Gurlitt, the eminent connoisseur of Cicero’s letters, in the 
Jahresbericht for 1898 (Vol. XXVI, p. 3). But I did not convince Professor Leo, 
who in the course of a discussion of the date of publication of the letters to Atticus,’ 
defended the genuineness of the Commentarioluwm, nor Schanz, who in the second edi- 
tion of the Rémische Literaturgeschichte still holds to the position originally taken by 
him toward the question. Most recently Dr. J. Ziehen — and his words have impelled 
me to revert to the subject once more— has used this discussion to illustrate the general 
reaction toward a more conseryative point of view in the higher criticism of Roman 
literature,’ assuming that the authenticity of the work in question is now generally 
acknowledged. That such is the case I shall not dispute, but I am stirred to protest 
when this conservative reaction is illustrated by a series of examples which places the 
challenging of the genuineness of the Commentariolum on a par with the frivolous 





1Cf. Luo, “Die Publication yon Cicero's Briefen an 2Echtheitsfragen derrdmischen Literaturgeschichte,” 
Atticus,” Nachrichten d. k. Gesellschaft d. Wissenschaften Berichte d. freien deutschen Hochstiftes zu Frankfurt 
zu Gottingen, phil.-hist. Klasse, 1895, pp. 447 ff. ‘‘ Tyrrell a. M., 1901, p. 84. I am indebted to Dr. Ziehen himself for 
hat seine Vertheidigung gefiihrt ohne, wie mir scheint, den a copy of his valuable paper, with the general tendency 
Kern der Sache zu treffen.” and results of which I am in full accord. 


71 


4 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 








doubts of the early nineteenth century concerning the orations against Catiline, the 
orations post reditum and the pro Marcello. The considerations advanced by Wolf, 
and especially by his German and Dutch emulators, against any of these orations were 
never more than of a most general character—suspicions of the presence of bombast, 
declamatory rhetoric, and the magister wmbraticus. Of definite relations to other 
works of literature, which would reveal the pillager, examples were not shown. 

Now in regard to the Commentariolum I would carefully eliminate so far as pos- 
sible all considerations of a vague or general character, and so throw over voluntarily 
much, or rather most, that Eussner advanced. I would let the question rest upon a 
comparison of resemblances with literature of a time subsequent to the date at which 
the treatise purports to have been written, that is, subsequent to the middle of 
the year 64, the earliest date which can be assigned to it, if genuine. Confirma- 
tion of this result I shall then endeavor to point out from a study of the rhetorical 
form and style of the treatise. Although all scholars who have discussed this question 
concede the relationship of certain passages of the Commentariolum to the oration in 
Toga Candida (delivered just before the consular election of 64), and assume that Marcus 
Cicero borrowed from the recent campaign document of Quintus, yet I will reproduce 
them here for the sake of affording a complete list of the most essential parallels. 

Of Antonius we read, Com. 8: vocem audivimus turantis se Romae tudicio aequo 
cum homine Graeco certare non posse. Andina fragment of the oration in Tog. Cand., 
preserved by Asconius (edition of Kiessling and Schdll), p. 74, 26: quit in sua civitate 
cum peregrino negavit se iudicio aequo certare posse. 

Concerning the death of M. Marius at the hands of Catiline, Com. 10: quid ego 
nune dicam petere eum consulatum, qui hominem carissinum populo Romano, M. 
Marium, inspectante populo Romano... . vivo stanti collum gladio sua dextera 
secuerit, .... caput sua manu tulerit. In Tog. Cand. p. 78,10: populum vero, 
cum tmspectante populo collum secuit hominis maxime popularis, quanti faceret 
ostendit: and ibid., p. 80, 22: caput etiam tum plenum animae et spiritus ad Syllam 

manibus tpse suis detulit. 

Of these passages and of a number of other rather striking points of contact 
between the two works Biicheler says, p. 9: “et haee quidem aliaque de Antoni 
praediis proscriptis, de Catilinae stupris, de Africa provincia, de testium dictis ac 
iudicio etiam si pariter uterque vel tractavit vel elocutus est, tamen quod temporum 
rerumque aut necessitate id factum est aut opportunitate, mutuatum esse alterum non 
liquet.” But concerning the two following passages he assumes that Marcus borrowed 
consciously from the recent letter of Quintus. 

Com. 10: qui nullum in locum tam sanctum ac tam religiosum accesserit in quo 
non etiam si aliis culpa non esset, tamen ex sua nequitia dedecoris suspicionem 
relinqueret. In Tog. Cand., p. 82, 3 (a passage which Asconius refers to a charge of 
incest with the vestal Fabia): cum ita vixisti ut non esset locus tam sanctus quo non 
adventus tuus etiam cum culpa nulla subesset crimen adferret. This the reading of 

72 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 5 








the lemma: Asconiusin his comment (7bid., vs. 8) gives etiam si, etc., as in the Com. 
Itis, I suppose, the cautious phraseology etiam si aliis culpa non esset which Bicheler 
means that Marcus found worth reproducing with etiam cum (st) culpa nulla subesset. 
As for the rest, Cicero had already used a similar phrase of Verres (I, 62): ecquo 
in oppido pedem posuit ubi non plura |stuprorum flagitiorumque suorum| adventus 
sut vestigia reliquerit? 

Com. 12: quis enim reperiri potest tam improbus civis, qui velit uno suffragio 
duas in rem publicam sicas destringere? In Tog. Cand., p. 83, 20 (which Asconius 
prefaces with the words dicit de malis civibus): qui posteaquam illo <quo> conati 
erant Hispanienst pugiunculo nervos incidere civium Romanorum non potuerunt, 
duas uno tempore conantur in rem publicam sicas destringere. 

It is perhaps worth noting, but scarcely of any significance for our question, that 
these four passages of most striking resemblance between the Commentariolum and 
the oration in Toga Candida occur in the same sequence in both works. Concerning 
this last example a significant point has been overlooked. In the first place the 
antithesis of wno suffragio with duas sicas destringere falls out of the figure in 
puerile fashion, which is not the case with Marcus’s very natural phrase duas uno tem- 
pore sicas destringere. But furthermore—and this to my thinking is a decisive 
consideration —the essential antithesis in the oration is not between duas sicas and 
uno tempore, but between the Spanish stiletto (Hispaniensi pugiunculo),’ which had 
failed to cut the sinews of the state, and the two daggers (sicas) which the same citizens 
were now attempting to draw. In the Commentariolum the metaphor is launched 
abruptly, in trivial antithesis to wno suffragio, with rather frigid effect; in the frag- 
ment of the in Toga Candida the whole phrase duas in rem publicam sicas distringere 
is the natural outgrowth of and antithesis to the preceding metaphor Hispaniensi 
pugiunculo nervos incidere. That is, once given this metaphor, the second is an out- 
growth of the historical relationships, and not a random shot of rhetorical pyrotechnics 
as in the Commentariolum. But it will hardly be questioned, I imagine, that looked 
at per se, the place where the metaphor is most natural and in most organic relation 
to the context is most likely to be the original place of its occurrence. 

Let us now turn to the oration pro Muwrena, which likewise reveals some striking 
points of contact with the Commentariolum. Some of the most essential parallels were 
pointed out by Eussner, along with many examples of very doubtful character, which 
only served to cast discredit upon his method. To these I added some further examples 
in my former discussion. That there is in them such closeness of resemblance as 
would point decisively to a relationship between the two documents has been denied by 
Tyrrell and Schanz. Leo, however, recognizes them along with the passages of the 
oration in Toga Candida as genuine reminiscences from the work of Quintus.* That 


3 Ascontus, loc. cit.: ‘‘ Hispaniensem pugiunculum Cn. einzelne Wendungen aus der Schrift des Bruders verflochten, 
Pisonem appellat quem in Hispania occisum dixi.” und auch die Rede pro Murena des n&chsten Jahres zeigt 
4Loc. cit., p. 449: “Dieser (Marcus Cicero) hat in die Anklange an den Brief.” 
Rede in Toga Candida bald nach Empfang des Briefes.... 


73 


6 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 





some relationship between the two works exists, a comparison such as the following 
must, I think, convince anyone. Pro Murena, 44: petitorem ego, praesertim consu- 
latus, magna spe magno animo magnis copiis et in forum et in campum deduci volo 
[Com., 36: magnam affert opinionem, magnam dignitatem cotidiana in deducendo 
frequentia|; placet mihi . . . . persalutatio, praesertim cum iam hoc novo more omnes 
fere domos omnium concursent | Com., 35: in salutatoribus, qui magis vulgares sunt 
et hac consuetudine quae nune est pluris veniunt], ef ex voltu candidatorum coniec- 
turam faciant quantum quisque animi et facultatis habere videatur. [| Com., 34: nam 
ex ea ipsa copia (assectatorum) coniectura fieri poterit, quantum sis in ipso campo 
virium ac facultatis habiturus ]. 

But it is possible, I am convinced, to go farther than merely to point out resem- 
blances. It can be shown that certain ideas and certain expressions in the Commenta- 
riolum are intelligible, or fully intelligible, only in the light of the oration pro 
Murena. In Com.,55 the author admonishes Cicero, in view of the danger of bribery: 
fac... . ut intellegas eum esse te qui tudicii ac periculi metum maximum competi- 
toribus afferre possis, fac ut se abs te custodiri atque observari sciant. The admo- 
nition concludes with a qualification as follows: atque haec ita nolo te illis proponere 
ut videare accusationem iam meditari, sed ut hoc terrore facilius hoc ipsum quod agis 
consequare. The words are not likely to strike one as obscure; but it is nevertheless 
not easy to see why Cicero is advised to show his teeth and yet not seem to be on the 
point of bringing them together. It is rather a subtle balance which the words with 
some ineptitude enjoin. Indictments of candidates by each other during the petitio 
on charges of bribery were not unusual, and in this very canvass of 64, had not the 
tribune of the people, Q. Mucius Orestinus, intervened to prevent the passage of a 
lex ambitus aucta etiam cum poena (Asconius in the argument of the oration in 
Tog. Cand., page 74), we might have had a legal action against Catiline and Antonius 
instead of the senatorial speech in Toga Candida. As it was, Cicero used the oppor- 
tunity of a protest against the intercessio of Orestinus to deliver himself of an invective 
against his competitors which could not have differed greatly in moral significance 
from an accusatio. But for some reason, the author of the Commentariolum admon- 
ishes, Cicero must not seem accusationem iam meditari. The explanation of this 
statement is afforded by pro Murena, 43 ff., where at considerable length and with 
much sprightly banter Cicero argues that Sulpicius lost his chance of election by stop- 
ping in the midst of his candidacy to prosecute his opponents for bribery: nescio quo 
pacto semper hoc fit, . . . . simul atque candidatus accusationem meditari visus est, 
ut honorem desperasse videatur.. The author of the Commentariolum has general- 
ized this admonition (atque haec ita nolo te illis proponere ut videare accusationem 


5 My statement above, that Tyrrell denies that the re- probable that Mareus in his speech availed himself of a 
semblances between the Com. and the pro Murena point to reminiscence of his brother’s Essay which he had perhaps 
a relationship of any kind between the two documents, re- _ been editing very recently.” But that this cannot be the re- 
quires correction with reference to this example: “In this lation has been made clear. 
case,” he says (Vol. I2, p. 119 extr.), “it seems to me very 


74 


GrorGEe LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 7 





iam meditari) from the statement which suited the particular exigencies of Cicero’s 
argument in behalf of Murena. 

This same special argument of the pro Murena serves to cast light upon still 
another passage of the Commentariolum, which by itself has afforded not a little diffi- 
culty to editors (52): cura . . . . ut etiam si qua possit ne competitoribus tuis existat 
aut sceleris aut libidinis aut largitionis accommodata ad eorum mores infamia. The 
question at issue here among the critics is whether ne shall be kept or omitted. Those 
who look upon the text as sound (e. g., Orelli) appeal to the generous admonition of sec. 
40 asa parallel. Btcheler combats this interpretation vigorously, and with Palermus 
and Gulielmius thinks that ne is inappropriate. He sees in it a corruption of nova, 
and would read accordingly ut si qua possit nova competitoribus existat infamia. 

The text is, however, sound, but it would be a mistake to attribute the thought to 
a generous motive. The presence of the admonition here is closely connected with the 
position which these words occupy as the conclusion of the partitio outlined in 41 — 
speciem in publico. This final member is introduced by the words which immediately 
precede the sentence under discussion thus: postremo tota petitio cura ut pompae 
plena sit, ut illustris, wt splendida, ut popularis sit, ut habeat summam speciem ac 
dignitatem, ut etiam, etc. (as above). In what connection with this advice concerning 
brilliancy and splendor of campaign the injunction under consideration (ne competi- 
toribus existat infamia) stands it is not easy to see, nor is it strange that critics have 
found it a block of stumbling. But here again the pro Murena plays the role of com- 
mentary to the writer’s thought. We have already seen that Cicero tells Sulpicius 
that he revealed his ignorance of the art of campaigning by prosecuting a competitor 
in the course of his canvass. People demand, he says (44), of their candidate an 
appearance of confidence, a brilliant display of resources, etc. (petitorem ego, praeser- 
tim consulatus, magna spe magno animo magnis copiis et in campum et in forwm 
deduct volo). But Sulpicius, busy with his prosecution, appeared downcast and 
distracted: (49) te inquirere videbant, tristem ipsum, maestos amicos. . . . .: Catilinam 
interea alacrem atque laetum, stipatum choro cuventutis, etc., and so, to escape the 
impending success of Catiline, men voted for Murena. In the light of this description 
it becomes clear why the author of the Commentariolum urges in this connection: ut si 
qua possit (possis?) ne competitoribus twis existat infamia. That is, following the 
suggestion of Cicero’s description in the pro Murena, he advises that any notorious 
scandal such as might be looked for from the character of his competitors (accomodata 
ad eorum mores) be not allowed to come to public notice and (by compelling attention) 
transform the brilliancy and dignity of Cicero’s campaign into an uninteresting 
prosecution. 

There remains still another passage of the Commentariolum which I believe shows 
even more clearly the dependence of its author upon the pro Murena. I pointed out 
the verbal resemblance in my former article, though at that time I did not discern the 


6On the reading (for spem in republica of the MSS.) see below, p. 24. 
75 


8 Tue CoMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 





full significance of the passage for this question. In pro Murena, 21, Cicero ridicules 
Sulpicius’s contention that, having been at Rome engaged in the affairs of the forum, 
he deserved the consulship rather than Murena, who for so many years had been 
absent in the army. After some further development of this theme Cicero reminds 
Sulpicius that the very fact of always being in Rome and in the forum causes people 
to grow tired of one’s presence: ista nostra adsiduitas, Servi, nescis quantum interdum 
adferat hominibus fastidii, quantum satietatis. In his own case, he continues, presence 
had been of advantage, but only by diligent effort had he overcome its disadvantages: 
mihi quidem vehementer expedut positam in oculis esse gratiam; sed tamen ego mei 
satietatem magno meo labore superavi. With unmistakable reminiscence of the same 
phraseology, the author of the Commentariolum says under the caption assiduitas (43): 
prodest quidem vehementer nusquam discedere; sed tamen hic fructus est assiduitatis, 
non solum esse Romae atque in foro, sed assidue petere, etc. In this passage, apart 
from the striking formal resemblances, the reader will discern the whole background 
of Cicero’s discussion in the pro Murena — the suggestion that mere presence in Rome 
is not necessarily an advantage (quidem), that the true reward of assiduitas can only 
come to one, as it came to Cicero, by diligent effort. The author has generalized for 
the purpose of his argument the exception which Cicero makes in his own case (mihi 
quidem). In this example, as in the preceding one, the text of the Commentariolum 
has not gone unchallenged. The adversative idea introduced by sed tamen, which is 
perfectly clear in the light of the pro Muwrena, has caused difficulty, and was trans- 
posed by Eussner to the end of the section (after rogatum). 

The resemblances of the Commentariolum to the long first letter of Marcus ad 
Quintum fratrem are of a somewhat different character from those thus far considered. 
For it is obvious that the totally different subject-matter would not afford to the author 
precepts de petitione consulatus. The resemblance is generic rather than specific. 
But in any theory of the spuriousness of the Commentariolum it must be the most 
natural hypothesis to assume that the letter of Marcus furnished the later rhetorician 
or rhetorical student with the suggestion of an epistolary swasoria of similar kind. 
No one can read the two works side by side without feeling a certain relationship 
between them, and yet in the matter of detailed resemblances there is nothing of a 
decisive character which can be adduced. In making this statement I should fear that 
I might seem merely to reflect the impression of a prejudiced mind if I could not 
appeal to the words of Bicheler on this point, written before the question of authen- 
ticity had been raised (p. 10): “Marcus par pari quodam modo rettulit missa ad 
fratrem epistula praeclara I, 1, quae cum in genere scribendi .... proxume ad 
commentariolum hoe accedat, tum singula habet adsimilia velut ibi quae leguntur § 37 


7That Cicero’s treatment of the matter in the pro Mu- I would note further in this connection that Tydeman 
rena arises from the particular circumstances of the case finds the relationship between Com., 37 and pro Murena, 70 
in hand seems to have been noted also by Tydeman, “In so close, that Mareus “hune Quinti locum oculis proposi- 
Q. Ciceronis de pet. cons. librum adnotatio,” Leyden, 1838: tum habuisse videatur”’ (p. 55). 
“Nec metuenda est illa assiduitatis satietas, quam causae 
atque amici gratia Cicero refert.” 


76 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 9 








admodum concinunt cum Quinti sententia § 39.” The passages are as follows: (Cicero 
says that the only exception he hears to the praise of Quintus touches his proneness to 
anger): non suscipiam ut quae de iracundia dict solent a doctissimis hominibus ea 
nunc tibi ecponam. And a little further on: neque ego nune hoe contendo... . 
mutare animum ... . sed te illud admoneo, etc. Compare Com., 39: non est huius 
temporis perpetua illa de hoc genere disputatio, quibus rebus benivolus et simulator 
diiudicart possit; tantum est huius temporis admonere. 

In the oration pro Caelio, after reviewing the charges which had been made 
against Caelius of impiety toward his father and of having won the disapprobation of 
his fellow-townsmen, Cicero refutes them by the presence and the grief of Caelius’s 
parents and municipales, and concludes: videor mihi iecisse fundamenta defensionis 
meae, quae firmissima sunt si nituntur iudicio suorum. The author of the Commen- 
tariolum at the beginning of the second main division of the treatise (16) discusses 
the significance for Cicero’s canvass of the studia amicorum, a topic which is then 
analyzed at considerable length. After pointing out that the term amicus is of wider 
application in the petitio than in the rest of life, he says we must nevertheless remem- 
ber that the friendships which depend upon natural ties of blood and affinity, or any 
relationship, are of first importance. The situation, it will be seen, is analogous to 
that set forth in the passage of the oration pro Caelio, cited above. The concluding 
words of both passages are here set side by side. Pro Cael., 6: ab his fontibus pro- 
fluxit ad hominum famam et meus hie forensis labor vitaeque ratio dimanavit ad 
existimationem hominum paulo latius commendatione ac tudicio meorum. Com., 17: 
nam fere omnis sermo ad forensem famam a domesticis emanat auctoribus. The 
similarity of the two passages in relation to the general argument of both works, the 
identity in thought, and such verbal resemblances as famam, forensis, dimanavit 
(emanat), lead me to believe that we have here a genuine reminiscence of Cicero.* 

But more striking than resemblances to words of Cicero, though not more decisive 
for proving the later origin of the work, are two passages, which I pointed out before, 
containing reminiscences from Horace and from Publilius Syrus respectively. I 
revert to them again for the sake of making my list of significant resemblances com- 
plete, and to add a further consideration which was overlooked before. Horace, Serm., 
I, 3, 58: [Bene sanus ac non ineautus (61)| hie fugit, omnis || insidias nullique malo 
latus obdit apertum, || cwm genus hoc inter vitae versetur ubi acris | invidia atque 
vigent ubi crimina. Com., 54: video esse magni consilii atque artis in tot hominum 
cuiusque modi vitiis tantisque versantem vitare offensionem vitare fabulam vitare 
insidias. That esse magni consilii atque artis is the essential equivalent of bene 


8 The resemblances between Com., 9 and de Har, Resp., such biographical summaries of invective (Verr. IIT, 6); 
42, I have not repeated from my former article, because the TV, 126). 


relationship is probably not a direct one. I suspect that I would add here another parallel to which, however, 
the oration in Toga Cand. contained a review of the life of | I attach no particular significance. Com., 2: ita paratus 
Catiline, similar to the passage of the de Har. Resp. di- ad dicendum venito, quasi in singulis causis tudicium de 


rected against Clodius, and that the passage of the Com. omni ingenio futurum sit. With this compare de Or., I, 
is derived from the former of these. Cicero has many 125: quotiens enim dicimus totiens de nobis iudicatur. 


77 


10 Tue CoMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 





sanus ac non incautus may perhaps appear more plainly from the Horatian designa- 
tion of the names which malice gives to discretion (ibid., 61): pro bene sano ac non 
incauto fictum | artis] astutumque [consilii] vocamus. But it is not only the fact of 
parallelism which leads me to think that this is a conscious reminiscence of Horace: 
the introductory formula video esse is the author’s acknowledgment of a reminiscence 
which he could not expect to pass unobserved. This use of video is one of the most 
constant forms of introduction for a quotation, an appeal to authority, or an example 
based on literary evidence. For example, de Leg., II, 8: hance video sapientissimorum 
fuisse sententiam. Or., 67: video visum esse nonnullis, and many others. 

The reminiscence from Publilius Syrus is found in Com., 45: illud difficilius 
(est) . . . . quod facere non possis, ut id tucunde neges. . . . . Cum id petitur quod 

. promittere non possumus ... . belle negandum est. . . . . Audivi hoc dicere 
quendam de quibusdam oratoribus ad quos causam suam detulisset, gratiorem sibi 
orationem eius fuisse qui negasset quam illius qui recepisset. With this compare 
Publilius Syrus, Sententiae (ap. Gellium, 17, 14): pars benefict est quod petitur st 
belle neges. There can be no doubt it seems to me that the passage of the Commen- 
tariolum presents a paraphrase of the Sententia of Publilius, in which the point of 
the original saying appears firstin the form zweunde neges, but is betrayed a moment 
later by belle negandum; while it will not escape notice that pars benefici of Publilius 
is paraphrased by gratiorem sibi orationem, etc. Furthermore, in a manner somewhat 
similar to the use of video esse in the reminiscence from Horace aboye, audivi here 
affords a sort of acknowledgment of the borrowed phrase, which the writer could not 
expect to pass unnoticed. The juxtaposition belle negare does not seem to occur else- 
where, and our passage may serve to defend the text of Publilius as presented by the 
MSS. of Gellius (reading velle). As early as the time of Macrobius cito neges formed 
the conclusion of the line and became the vulgate reading. 

In view, therefore, of these resemblances I do not hesitate to reaffirm my convic- 
tion that the Commentariolum is the work of some rhetorical student, who chose the 
epistolary form in which to write a swasoria Which should be a counterpart to Cicero’s 
first letter ad Quintum fratrem. As was natural, he made use primarily of the orations 
of Cicero which bore most directly on his theme —of the oration in Toga Candida for 
his invective against Catiline and Antonius, and of the oration pro Murena for pre- 
cepts de petitione consulatus. In one instance as we have seen (p. 5) he reproduced 
from the oration in Toga Candida the second part of a continued metaphor (dwas im 
rem publicam sicas destringere), overlooking the fact that it had significance only in rela- 
tion to the part preceding (Hispaniensi pugiunculo . . . . nervos incidere). Fresh from 
the reading of the pro Murena, he not unnaturally incorporated into his treatise some 
ideas and expressions which are only intelligible in the light of that speech, and these 
instances afford the most conclusive proof of the spuriousness of the work. The letter 
was not, of course, meant as a forgery —it was merely a rhetorical exercise, and in the 
concluding words one can still seem to detect the deferential tone of a pupil asking for 

78 


GrorGge LINcoLN HENDRICKSON 11 








criticism of his master, and commending in modest words the earnestness of his pur- 
pose: si quid mutandum esse videbitur aut omnino tollendum, aut si quid erit prae- 
teritum, velim hoc mihi dicas; volo enim hoc commentariolum petitionis habert omni 
ratione perfectum.’ But, as being an exercise and not a deliberate literary forgery, 
no care was taken to avoid anachronism in the use of the material. In lexicography 
and grammatical usage the language points to a relatively early date, but this cannot 
afford the slightest ground of objection to the conclusion that the work is spurious, as 
Schanz urges. We know from the elder Seneca that only a few years after the death 
of Cicero declaimers were busy with swasoriae which dealt with his career, and 
Asconius tells us of spurious orations which purported to be the replies of Catiline and 
Antonius to the oration in Toga Candida. 


RHETORICAL FORM 


It is a commonplace of text-criticism that we are not justified merely in rejecting, 
no matter how grave the suspicion which we may cast upon the text called into ques- 
tion; we must advance a step farther and account for the presence of the interpolation. 
A similar demand is made of higher criticism, although in the present case it would 
seem to be met adequately by the general suggestion outlined above, of a rhetorical 
exercise which should be the counterpart of ad Quintum fratrem, I, 1. But inasmuch 
as this does not seem to have conveyed to some of the adherents of authenticity a 
satisfactory explanation of the theory of origin, it will not perhaps be superfluous at 
this point to indicate more accurately the rhetorical source and the literary affinities of 
the Commentariolum. 

Ziehen, in the paper cited above (p. 3), says: “den Zweck dieser Rhetoren- 
filschung . .. . vermégen wir nicht recht zu erkennen” (p. 84). To these words 
Gurlitt (Jahresbericht, Vol. 109, 1901, p. 16) replies: “den Zweck einer Schuliibung, 
einer Suasorie, unter denen das consilium dare bekanntlich zu den beliebtesten Themata 
gehorte.” Gurlitt’s words I quote gratefully as giving the true name and classification 
to the work in the exercises of the rhetorical schools. To be sure the swasoriae which 
the elder Seneca describes (and which will occur to the reader most naturally as 
specimens of this form) are, in the situations which they present, of a somewhat 
different character. They show us Alexander or Cicero, for instance, deliberating 
between two alternative plans, or lines of conduct (deliberat Alexander an Oceanum 
naviget; deliberat Cicero an Antonium deprecetur), the one or the other of which is 
urged by the advisers who deliver the swasoriae. In none of them is advice given 
concerning the attainment of a concrete end. Nevertheless the purpose, consilium dare, 
is the same as that which underlies the Commentariolum. The field was obviously 
wide, and that the material might assume many forms, Quintilian observes (III, 8, 15): 
nam et consultantium et consiliorum plurima sunt genera. 


9TIn one other case the conscious pupil seems to peer through (49): ac ne videar aberrasse a distributione mea qui 
haec in hac populari parte petitionis disputem, hoc sequor. 


79 


12 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 





The pars deliberativa says Quintilian (ibid., 6) quae eadem suasoria dicitur 
.... offictis constat duobus suadendi ac dissuadendi; its goal as defined conyen- 
tionally by the rhetoricians is wtilitas, a conception which Quintilian finds too narrow 
and to which he adds honestas, especially in the quaestio inter utile atque honestum 
(ibid., 24). With reference to arrangement the swasoria requires only a brief 
prooemium, if any be used at all (etiam cum prooemio utimur, breviore tamen et velut 
quodam capite tantum et initio debemus esse contenti); a narratio is likewise unneces- 
sary in a matter of private deliberation— quia nemo ignorat id de quo consulit (ibid., 
10). 

Into this rhetorical framework the Commentariolum falls without constraint. 
Cicero is bidden to deliberate on the circumstances of his petitio (2): prope cotidie 
tibi ad forum descendenti meditandumst; and the writer offers the results of his own 
reflections (quae mihi veniebant in mentem dies ac noctes de petitione tua cogitanti) in 
the form of admonition to or warning against certain lines of conduct. Of technical 
language, apart from that which has just been cited, which reveals the author’s con- 
sciousness of the rhetorical form which he is using, one may note (46): dlud alterum 
(<ut false promittas>) subdurum tibi homini Platonico suadere, sed tamen tempori 
consulam. (27): hoc quod egote hortor, etc. (39): tantum est huius temporis admonere 
(cf. Emporius de deliberativa materia, Halm, p. 572, 15: swasio est . . . . admonendi 
causa). Utilitas as the goal of the writer’s admonition appears constantly in 
phraseology of every kind; the frequent use of adiwvare and prodesse may be noted 
especially (e. g., in secs. 4-6). In some cases the quaestio inter utile atque honestum 
is raised and answered without hesitation in favor of the former; as for instance in the 
example cited above: sed tempori consulam, where see the whole context 45-48. Cf. also 
such examples as 42: opus est blanditia, quae etiamsi vitiosa et turpis in cetera vita, 
tamen in petitione necessaria est; and 25: potes honeste (in petitione), quod in cetera 
vita non queas, etc. Practically all the utterances in the Commentariolum which may 
be classed as exhorting to dishonorable conduct belong in this category, and we shall 
judge them less harshly if we remember that they follow a conventional precept of the 
genus deliberativum (v. Quintilian, loc. cit.,41 and 42). The end, in short, must 
justify the means, and the author of our treatise thought not otherwise (56): et plane 
sic contende omnibus nervis ac facultatibus ut adipiscamur quod petimus (ef. 
Quintilian, loc. cit., 34: videndum quid consecturi simus et per quid; ut aestimari 
possit plus in eo quod petimus sit commodi an vero in eo per quod petimus incom- 
modi). In arrangement the Commentariolum corresponds to Quintilian’s rule cited 
above, in that it has a very brief prooemium, from which it passes over immediately to 
the tractatio: narrationem vero numquam exigit privata deliberatio (Quint., ITT, 8, 
10). It is to be said, however, that the first topic of the tractatio in a manner supplies 
the place of a narratio, as is explained below. 

This question of the relation of our treatise to rhetorical theory may be con- 
cluded with the following observations, which afford us a glimpse into the very work- 

80 


GrorGeE LINcOoLN HENDRICKSON 13 





shop of the rhetorician. In introducing the question of the material of the swasoria 
Quintilian pleads for a wider range than his predecessors had admitted, and begins his 
treatment thus (loc. cit., 15): quare in suadendo et dissuadendo tria primum spec- 
tanda erunt: quid sit de quo deliberetur, qui sint qui deliberent, qui sit qui suadeat. 
It is with reference to this precept that our author distributes his matter in the opening 
of the treatise proper as follows (2): civitas quae sit, cogita, quid petas | = quid sit 
de quo deliberetur |, qui sis [=qui sint qui deliberent|. After thus making recogni- 
tion of the fundamental considerations of the pars swasoria, this abstract rhetorical 
formula is repeated in reverse order with the special conditions of the particular case 
filled in: ad forwm descendenti meditandumst: novus sum [qui sis|, consulatum peto 
[quid petas|, Roma est | civitas quae sit]. The merit which the writer claims for his 
performance lies not in any originality of suggestion, but in this methodical analysis 
and arrangement of the matter in accordance with rule (1): ut ea quae in re dispersa 
atque infinita viderentur esse ratione et distributione sub uno aspectu ponerentur. 
That of Quintilian’s threefold division the member qui sit qui suadeat is here lack- 
ing, is most natural. For whatever might be said of the qualifications of the writer to 
give advice, or in justification of his doing so, would belong to a preface or epilogue (as 
we shall see in a parallel example below), and not to the advice itself. In the situation 
which the Commentariolum presents the topic is sufficiently covered by allusion to 
fraternal affection as the author’s motive for writing (amore nostro non sum alienum 
arbitratus, in the preface). Of the three divisions into which the tractatio is thus 
distributed, the third, Roma est, is treated very briefly at the end (54-6). The whole 
emphasis lies upon the other two divisions, and especially upon the second (consulatum 
peto), which really forms the essential tractatio and justifies the author’s designation 
of his work as a commentariolum petitionis. I suspect, however, that the writer 
having in mind a threefold analysis of the pars suasoria such as Quintilian presents, 
and being unable to use the rubric qui sit qui suadeat as a part of his argument, cast 
about for a third member which should take the place of it. He found it perhaps in 
such a precept of the genus deliberativum as Cicero presents in de Oratore, II, 
337: ad consilium de re publica dandum caput est nosse rem publicam: that 
is, civitas quae sit cogita. In further confirmation of this suggestion I would quote 
the words which follow in Cicero: ad dicendum vero probabiliter nosse mores civitatis, 
qui quia cerebro mutantur genus quoque orationis est saepe mutandum. With this 
compare the following passage from the treatment of the topic in the Commentariolum 
(54): video esse magni consilii atque artis . . . . esse unum hominem accommodatum 
ad tantam morum ac sermonum ac voluntatum varietatem; quare etiam atque etiam 
perge tenere istam viam quam institisti, excelle dicendo. (A suggestion of this third 
topic is contained in Quintilian (oc. cit.) in allusion to the passages of the de Oratore 
just cited; Cicero .. . . duo esse praecipue nota voluit, vires civitatis et mores.) 
The Commentariolum is therefore a swasoria composed in accordance with the 
precepts of rhetorical theory. A classical and genuine model of the type in epistolary 
81 


14 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 





form is afforded by the letter of Cicero ad Quintum fratrem to which frequent allusion 
has been made. But in spite of generic resemblance it reveals a somewhat different 
character; for the advice given is of a more general ethical nature (protreptic or parae- 
netic) than practical and with reference to the attainment of a concrete end.” Still more 
essentially they differ in this respect, that the letter of Marcus is truly epistolary and 
maintains throughout a vital relationship with the personality of the one addressed. 
In form it conserves the freedom of an epistle and is wholly absolved from the con- 
straint of a rhetorical formula. It is impossible, for instance, to detect in it any regard 
for rhetorical precepts such as govern the arrangement of the Commentariolwm. 

For closer parallels in this respect we must descend to the plane on which, as I 
have explained above, the Commentariolum seems to me to belong —to the declamatory 
literature of the schools, written under the impersonation of an historical name and 
situation (prosopopoeiae)." Of this kind there are two quasi-epistolary documents 
which I would cite as closely analogous in conception and technique to our letter: 
the two pseudo-Sallustian treatises ad Caesarem senem de re publica. They are 
edited by Jordan (3d ed., pp. 189-52) as imeerti rhetoris suasoriaue—a classification 
which requires no justification. The second is an epistle, as perlectis litteris in 12, 1, 
shows; that the first on the other hand is an oratio, as Jordan inscribes it, the form 
does not seem to me to indicate conclusively.” It is, however, a matter of no vital 
importance, for the second with its fervid epilogue shows how little check the epistolary 
form imposed upon the style. The arrangement of matter in both is essentially the 
same; for illustration the first will suffice. It consists of a prooemium (1) setting 
forth the duty of all to give Caesar such advice as each one finds possible; a brief nar- 
ratio (2) setting forth the situation, for the instruction of the declaimer’s audience, 
rather than for the benefit of Cesar (cf. Quintilian, above, p. 12), a tractatio (3-8, 6) 
with twofold division de bello atque pace, and a brief epilogue (8, 7). 

The tractatio is introduced thus: igitw quoniam tibi victori de bello atque pace 
agitandumest, . . . . de te ipso primum, qui ea compositurus es, quid optimum factu 
sit existuma. Although the writer here begins with the topic de te ipso, the division 
concludes with the words (5, init.): de bello satis dictum. That is the topic qui sit 
qui deliberet (Quintilian, swpra) is merged with a portion (sc. de bello) of the topic 
quid sit de quo deliberetur. This latter division is made especially prominent in 
introducing the second part (5): de pace firmanda, quoniam tuque et omnes tui agitatis, 
primum id, quaeso, considera quale sit de quo consultas. The epilogue (8, 7) sum- 
marizes the two preceding topics of the genus deliberativum (quae ret publicae 


10 On the distinction see Syrianus in WALz, IV, 763 (cited limae videntur prosopopoeiae, in quibus ad reliquum 
by VoLKMANN, Rhetorik, p. 294). That the letter of Cicero suasoriae laborem accedit etiam personae difficultas. The 
belongs to the general category may be shown in rather an ordinary suasoria advised Cicero, for instance, but without 
interesting way by comparison with the typical specimen of definition of the person of the adviser. 
the émaroAn vu BovAevtixy which is contained in the pseudo- 
Demetrian tvrot émcaroAccot (Hercher, p. 3, section 11). The 
resemblance in argument to ad Quint. frat., I, 1, is note- 
worthy. 


12 Jordan’s reasons for assigning this title are, I pre- 
sume, set forth in his treatise De suasoriis ad Casarem 
senem de re publica (Berlin, 1868), which I regret has been 
inaccessible to me, 

11 Cf, QUINTILIAN, ITT, 8, 49: tdeoque longe mihi difficil- 


82 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 15 








necessaria [de quo deliberetur| tibique gloriosa | qui deliberet| ratus sum, quam 
paucissimis apsolvi) and turns briefly to the third, qui sit qui suadeat, in the succeeding 
words: non peius videtur pauca nunc de facto meo disserere. The background of 
rhetorical theory which governs the arrangement of the matter is the same as in the 
Commentariolum. As there the topic qui sit qui swadeat was touched on but slightly 
in the preface (amore nostro non sum alienum arbitratus ad te perscribere), so 
in the first swasoria ad Caesarem it is alluded to briefly in the conclusion. 

In the second swasoria the author sets forth in the prooemium his qualifications 
for giving advice (the topic we have just considered), but has no thought of finding 
anything which would not occur to Ceesar himself (quod non cogitanti tibi in promptu 
sit). His only hope is to come to the assistance of Cesar amidst the distracting cares 
of military and public life: sed inter labores militiae interque proelia victorias impe- 
rium statui admonendum te de negottis urbanis (2, 2). The excuse of the impersonator 
of Quintus Cicero for addressing Marcus is the same. He does not expect to suggest 
anything new (non ut aliquid ex his novi addisceres, sec. 1), nor does he arrogate 
to himself superior knowledge; he would only undertake what Cicero has not leisure 
for (epilogue): hace sunt quae putavi non melius scire me quam te, sed facilius his 
tuis occupationibus colligere unum in locum posse et ad te perscripta mittere. 

It is noteworthy that in both the swasoriae ad Caesarem the tractatio consists of 
a twofold division of the topic quid sit de quo deliberetur, which is, however, different 
in each: in I, de bello atque pace, as we have seen; in If it is introduced thus (5): 
in duas partes ego civitatem divisam arbitror, sicut a maioribus accept, in patres et 
plebem. In the Commentariolum, I have observed above, there is no regular narratio; 
the tractatio begins at once with the topic qui sis-novus swum. But it will be seen on 
a perusal of this first section that in setting forth the swbsidia novitatis—the friends 
on whom Cicero may rely, the character of his opponents, ete. —the author has put 
the reader in possession of the main features of the situation. The tractatio proper there- 
upon occupies the large central portion of the treatise (16-54) and (as in the swasoriae 
ad Caesarem above), divides the rhetorical topic quid sit de quo deliberetur (quid 
petas) into two divisions (16): petitio magistratuum divisa est in duarum rationum 
diligentiam, quarum altera in amicorum studiis altera in populari voluntate ponenda 
est. The transition from the studia amicorum to the popularis voluntas is made 
in 41, as follows: quoniwm de amicitiis constituendis satis dictum est, dicendum est de 
illa altera parte petitionis quae in populari ratione versatur. Compare with this the 
transition at the beginning of the second division in the second swasoria ad Caesarem 
(10, init.): nune quoniam, sicut mihi videor, de plebe renovanda corrigendaque satis 
disserui, de senatu quae tibi agenda videntur dicam (cf. also the first, chap. 5, init.). 

It will thus be seen that in the conception of a situation (Q. Cicero ad Marcum 
fratrem de petitione consulatus), in the rhetorical arrangement and divisions, in the 
assumed motive for writing, and in the main transitions there is much similarity 
between the Commentariolum and the pseudo-Sallustian suasoriae ad Caesarem senem 

83 


16 THe CoMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 





de re publica. Not less striking are some details of language and treatment. <A few 
examples will suffice to show the similarity of hortatory forms, which for convenience 
I take from the second ad Caesarem. 4, 4: quo magis tibi etiam atque etiam animo 
prospiciendum est quonam modo rem stabilias communiasque. (Com., 55: quare 
etiam atque etiam perge tenere istam viam quam institisti). 5, 8: hos ego censeo 
permixtos cum veteribus novos in coloniis constituas. (Com.,18: hos tu homines 
quibuscumque poteris rationibus ut. . . . tui studiosi sint elaborato). 6,6: quo tibi, 
imperator, maiore cura fideique amici et multa praesidia paranda sunt. (Com., 29: 
quam ob rem omnes centurias multis et variis amicitiis cura ut confirmatas habeas). 
8, 3: haec ego magna remedia contra divitias statuo. (Com., 56: atque haec ita nolo 
te illis proponere). 8, 5: st pecuniae decus ademeris, magna illa vis avaritiae facile 
bonis moribus vincetur. (Com., 80: ex his principes ad amicitiam tuam si adiunzeris, 
per eos reliquam multitudinem facile tenebis). 11,3: sed quoniam coaequari gratiam 
omnium difficile est, . . . . sententias eorum a metu libera. (Com., 55: et quoniam 
in hoc vel maxime est vitiosa civitas .. . . fac ut, etc.). 

In the treatment of the invective directed against the opponents of Cesar there is 
much which is analogous to the abuse of Cicero’s competitors in the Commentariolum. 
Compare the introduction to this section in 8, 6: tibi ewm factione nobilitatis haut 
mediocriter certandum est. quoius si dolum caveris, alia omnia in proclivi erunt, with 
the conclusion of the corresponding division of the Com., 12: quare tibi si facies ea 

quae debes, non difficile <erit> certamen cum eis competitoribus, etc. Of the 
opponents of Cesar, Bibulus Domitius and Cato are the only ones counted worthy of 
special abuse (9, 4): reliqui de factione sunt inertissimi nobiles, in quibus sicut in 
titulo praeter bonum nomen nihil est additamenti (followed by scornful allusions to the 
impotence of Postumius and Favonius). Similarly in the Commentariolwm Catiline 
and Antonius are treated as the only significant competitors of Cicero (7): nam P. 
Galbam et L. Cassium summo loco natos quis est qui petere consulatum putet? vides 
igitur amplissimis ex familiis homines, quod sine nervis sunt, tibt pares non esse. 
The writer continues: at Catilina et Antonius molesti sunt: immo homini navo ... .« 
innocenti . . . . optandi competitores, ambo a pueritia sicaru, etc. With the same 
oxjpa X€Eews the more important opponents of Czesar are introduced (9, init.): M. 
Bibuli fortitudo atque animi vis in consulatum erupit: hebes lingua, magis malus 
quam callidus ingenio. But see the whole context of both documents for further 
illustration. 

But in spite of many such resemblances in detail it is nevertheless to be said that 
the minuteness of subdivision and of detailed admonition in the Commentariolum is 
not paralleled by the swasoriae ad Caesarem. They move in a larger atmosphere of 
generalities and reveal accordingly more of the recognized traits of the declamatory 
exercise. But in excuse for the absence of detailed suggestions the writer of the 
second swasoria describes what he might have done in words which are (though in a 
different subject-matter) an accurate characterization of what the author of the Com- 

84 


GrorGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 1 


-] 





mentariolum has done. His language may serve as evidence that such a detailed 
treatment of a theme was not alien to the practice of the schools (12, init.): forsitan, 
imperator, perlectis litteris, desideres quem numerum senatorum fiert placeat, quoque 
modo is in multa et varia officia distribuatur ; iudicia quoniam omnibus primae classis 
committenda putem, quae discriptio, quei numerus in quoque genere futurus sit. ea 
mihi omnia generatim discribere haud difficile factu fuit. One need only glance 
briefly at the argument of the Commentariolum to see how accurately it has carried 
out the kind of treatment which the author of the swasoria here indicates. For 
example, under the main heading of the tractatio (de studiis amicorum) the author 
analyzes the number and character of those whom Cicero must consider and make 
his friends, and enumerates the duties which must be assigned to each. A single 
precept typical of many will suffice in illustration (Com., 20): fac ut plane eis omni- 
bus (amicis) . . . . discriptum ac dispositum suum cuique munus sit. 

The foregoing exposition of the literary form of the Commentariolum, and of its 
relationship to undisputed products of the rhetorical schools, should afford, I think, 
an entirely satisfactory theory of origin. That the author was able to maintain the 
role and the situation which he had assumed without serious violation of historical 
truth was due, probably, less to painstaking care to avoid error in this respect, than 
to the security of the subject-matter and the method of its treatment. For, except 
in the first division, which deals with Cicero’s competitors, and in which the author 
was able to follow the oration in Toga Candida, there is very little allusion to 
historical personages or events. In one such case our treatise is at variance with 
the statement of Asconius." In another instance Mommsen (loc. cit., supra, p. 3), 
has noted that a distinction is made (in 33) between the equites proper and the young 
men who are classed with them in the centuriae equitum, which is contrary to Cicer- 
onian usage, and therefore for this period erroneous. But on the whole the writer 
has kept himself so closely to abstract analysis and classification that he has run little 
danger of falling into demonstrable error. 

Though the rhetorical origin of the work might have escaped detection from this 
point of view, yet, as we have seen, its character is revealed by the use of literary 
sources subsequent to the date of the situation assumed. But not less clearly I think 
is the rhetorician unmasked in the pedantic division of his matter in accordance with 
the precepts which we find in Quintilian. For it is to be kept in mind that Quintilian 
in designating the three topics to which every deliberation is to be referred does not 
teach that these are to form the outline of the argument. It is merely that a 
contemplation of the subject under deliberation, of the person deliberating, and of the 
person giving advice, shall yield the points of view from which the matter is to be 
treated, and govern the style and tone. Nothing more can have been intended, as 


13 Tt is with reference to the defence of Q. Gallius, which in a single instance cannot be used for the question of 
according to the Com., 19 had already been made. Asconius authenticity; for if the Com. is a genuine document the 
p. 78, 29, comments: Q. Gallium, quem postea reum ambitus evidence of Asconius must yield toa contemporary witness: 
defendit, signisicare videtur. But a conflict of testimony _ if it be spurious, credence must be given rather to Asconius. 


85 


18 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 











is shown by the fact that the same considerations were named by the technicians 
for the composition of letters (R. L. M., p. 589: in epistolis considerandum est, quis 
ad quem et qua de re scribat). It is the index of a naive intelligence that the authors 
of the three swasoriae which we have considered have carried over into the division 
of their arguments this general injunction. In the swasoriae which the elder Seneca 
reports it is evident that much stress was laid upon a careful and exhaustive divisio;“ 
in them there is a distinct fondness for a threefold division, but I have observed no 
case where it consists of these three topics. 


STYLE 


But if the Commentariolum is the work of a rhetorical student are there then any 
features of the style which would seem appropriately to characterize such a source? 
That the style is “dry and sober and unlovely” (sicca sobria invenusta) Bicheler 
has said, and with this judgment as a whole no one will quarrel. But our question 
has been answered more directly by Leo who says (loc. cit., 447): “von rhetorischem 
Stil ist in der Schrift keine Spur.” He further points out that the elaborate and 
painful distributio is rather an archaic feature of the style than evidence of later 
origin in a rhetorical school. He observes also that Quintus was a Stoic and betrays 
a Stoic’s pride in dialectical artifice. If, in fact, as de Divinatione, I, 10, would seem 
to show (arcem tu quidem Stoicorum, Quinte, defendis), Quintus was a Stoic, we are 
in a better position to understand the significance of de Oratore, II, 10 and 11, in 
which playful allusion is made to Quintus’s aversion to rhetoric, and we need not 
hesitate to identify it with the general hostility of Stoicism to practical rhetoric. 

As for the painstaking distributio, we have seen above that it finds parallels in the 
school suasoriae, though we may grant that it is sufficiently characteristic of the 
dialectical manner: but to deny that there are any traces of rhetorical style in the 
treatise is to shut one’s eyes to some very obvious examples and toa still larger number 
which are perhaps somewhat less obvious. Of successful or admirable rhetoric there 
is, to be sure, none at all, but of forced and puerile striving after rhetorical effects 
there is an abundance throughout the work. Not to mention the frigid vehemence of 
the invective directed against Catiline and Antonius (7-12), which contains the prin- 
cipal lumina dicendi of the work, we have such trivial antitheses as the following (2): 
ita paratus ad dicendum venito quasi in singulis causis cudicium de omni ingenio 
futurum sit. (12): uno suffragio duas .... sicas destringere. (35): ex commu- 
nibus proprii ex fucosis firmi. Note especially the effort of sustained antithesis and 
balance in the following example (48): 

id si promittas, et incertum est et in diem et in paucioribus ; 

sin autem neges et certe abalienes et statim et pluris. 

... . Quare satius est ex his aliquos aliquando in foro 

tibi irasci quam omnis continuo domi. 


14 For the subject in general cf. such expressions as the omni dimissa divisione. Examples of a threefold division: 
following 3, 3: hoc Cestius diligenter divisit, 5,7: Triarius 1, 10; 2, 11; 5, 4; 6, 10. 


86 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 19 








But the feature of style which I would illustrate here especially is one to which, 
so far as I am aware, attention has not hitherto been called—the rhythmical structure 
of the treatise. The forms of rhythmical clawsulae which it contains are essentially 
the same ones as are found in the orations of Cicero and in such a letter as the first ad 
Quintum fratrem: the dichoreus (competitor), cretic and spondee (competitores), double 
cretic (competitoribus). Further variety is afforded by several other forms which are 
related to these by the resolution of long syllables, or the substitution of long for short 
syllables. Thus a spondee may take the place of a trochee (~ — | — = num virtute); 
a cretic may be constructed with an irrational long in the second place — especially 
the first of a sequence of two cretics (- — — | — ~ = sicas destringere); either long of 
the cretic may be resolved (- ~ ~~ | — = esse videare, or ~~ ~ — | - = genera cognoscas) 
and I have noticed one instance where both are resolved (~~ ~ ~~ | - = facere videare 
in 25, balanced by esse videare). In a few cases even the irrational second syllable of 





the cretic is resolved (- ~~ — | - -~ = promittere non possumus). In the form - ~ - | 
- =, the first syllable of the last foot is frequently resolved (~~ - | ~~ = aut nihil 
valeat). Another form which is apparently a recognized clausule is - - ~ ~ (nullwm 


fore though concerning its rhythmical interpretation I am in doubt. Of more com- 
plex forms note especially the dichoreus preceded by a cretic (~ ~ - | - ~ - ~ liberos 
constuprarit). 

These rhythmical clausules are found with great regularity at the end of periods; 
they are usually found also at the conclusion of the separate «@Aa which make up the 
periods, and sometimes even in such smaller divisions as may be designated «kéumata., 
They follow the usual rules of Latin verse in respect to syllaba anceps and elision. A 
typical illustration is afforded by the opening sentence of the treatise, which I here 
transcribe: 

Etsi tibi omnia suppetunt ea quae consequi ingenio aut usu homines aut intelligentia pos- 

SUL TUES (Gee me) 

tamen amore nostro non sum alienum arbitratus (~~~ — | — = - ~) 

ad te perscribere ea quae mihi yeniebant in mentem 

dies ac noctes de petitione tua cogitanti (- ~~ - | - ~ - ~) 

non ut aliquid ex his novi addisceres (- ~ — | — ~ —) 

sed ut ea quae in re dispersa atque infinita viderentur esse (—- ~ — | — ~ — ~) 

ratione et distributione sub uno aspectwu ponerentur (— — — | — ~ - ~). 


An example in which the rhythmical clausule is used even in short «oupata is 
afforded by section 16: 


quisquis est enim 


qui ostendat aliquid in te voluntatis (- ~ — | - =) 
qui colat (- ~ —) 
qui domum ventitet (- ~ — | — ~ =) 


is in amicorum numero est habendus (- ~ - ~). 


But my purpose is not so much to show that the author of the Commentariolum 
uses the rhythmic clausule, as to point out certain more striking examples of its use, 
87 


20 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 





in which it is the instrument of a conscious and artificial rhetoric. First a few 
examples to show the extremes to which the author goes in the employment of rhyth- 
mical language. The treatment of the theme proper begins in sec. 2 with the follow- 
ing wholly rhythmical sentence: 


civitas quae sit (= ~ — | = =) 
COGRLCA (Gasars) 
quid petas qui sis (- ~ — | —~) 


The same ideas are presented in chiastic order a moment later in the almost equally 
rhythmical form: 


novus sum consulatum peto Roma est (- ~ -— |-~- |-7). 


The conclusion of the treatise is marked by a sentence of equally extreme and artificial 
rhythmical character: 


quare si adyigilamus pro rei dignitate (— ~ — | — ~ — ~) 
et si nostros ad summum studium benivolos excitamus (~~ ~ — | — ~ — ~) 
et si hominibus studiosis nostri suum cuique munus discribimus (— — — | — ~ =) 
et si competitoribus iudicium proponimus (~~ — — | — ~ =) 
sequestribus metwm inicimus (— ~ — | ~Y =) 
divisores ratione aliqua coercemus (— ~ — | — =) 
perfici potest ut largitio nulla sit (- ~ — | — ~ =) 
aut nihil valeat (= ~- — | ~~ =). 


7 


In view of these examples I suspect that one or two other passages were written to 
attain a conscious rhythmical effect, as, for instance, 26: 


modo ut intellegat . ... fore 
ex eo non brevem et suffragatoriam (- ~- |- ~ -|---|-~7-) 
sed firmam et perpetuam amicitiam (- — | -- | ~~ ~- | ~~ =). 


Is it too fanciful to see in the rapid movement of the cretics the fleeting character of 
a campaign friendship, and in the slow movement of the spondees the stable friend- 
ship which is urged? Observe also the vivid rhetoric of the following (10): 


quid ego nunc tibi de Africa (- ~ — | — ~ -) 
quid de testium dictis scribam? (- — | — =) 
nota sunt et ea tu saepius legito (=~ => |< = |= =| =). 


Of balanced clauses with or without assonance and with identical rhythmical clausule 
there are many examples. Some of the most noteworthy are these (8): 


in petitione autem consulatus Cappadoces homines compilare (- ~ - ~) 
per turpissimam legationem maluit quam adesse et populo Romano supplicare (- ~ - ~). 
(10): qui ex curia Curios et Annios, ab atriis Sapalas et Carvilios, ex equestri ordine Pompi- 


lios et Vettios sibi amicissimos compararit (~~ - | -~-~); qui tantum habet audaciae 
tantum nequitiae, tantum denique in libidine artis et efficacitatis ut prope in parentum 
gremiis praetextatos liberos constuprarit (- ~ — |- ~ — ~). 


88 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 21 





(In this passage, as in many of the preceding examples, the clausule form, consist- 
ing of a dichoreus preceded by a cretic, is noteworthy.) The following example is 
remarkable for the use of elision to secure assonance between the members of an 
antithesis (2): 

non potest qui 


dignus habetur patronus consulari-(-— ~ — ~) 
um indignus consulatu putari (— ~ - =). 


In the following case similar rhythm enforces the effect of a pointed word-play (12): 


non difficile certamen erit cum eis competitoribus qui nequaquam sunt 
tam genere insignes (— ~~ — | = >) 
quam vitiis nobiles (- ~~ — | -— ~ -). 
Of simple balance with identical clausule, but without assonance or particular rhetori- 
cal artifice, there are many examples. In conclusion, a few instances where the 
natural order of the words is violated, apparently to produce the desired clausule (33): 


multo enim facilius illa adulescentulorum ad amicitiam aetas adiungitur (- ~ — | - ~ =). 


Similarly in 57, for the sake of the cretic before the dichoreus, we have: 


si nostros ad summum studium benivolos excitamus (~~ ~ — | — ~ — ~) 


where Biicheler, partly because of the substantival use of benivolus and partly because 
of the unusual order, brackets benivolos as spurious, and is followed by Miller. But 
see below, p. 22. In many cases, even though the word order is natural enough, it is 
probable that regard for a certain clausule has determined the arrangement. For 
example 1: 


non ut aliquid ex his novi addisceres (to produce — ~ — | — ~ -), 
and 17: 
omnis sermo .. . . a domesticis emanat auctoribus (to yield — ~ — | — ~ =). 
TEXT 


The oldest and best manuscripts containing the Commentariolum, which have 
thus far been discovered, are two: E (Erfurtensis, now Berolinensis No. 252) of the 
end of the eleventh or of the early twelfth century (Biicheler, p. 11), and H (Har- - 
leianus No. 2682) of the latter part of the eleventh century (E. Maunde Thompson). 
Both manuscripts contain miscellaneous works of Cicero and, for the question of 
authenticity, it may be of some significance that in both the Commentariolum follows 
the pseudo-Ciceronian epistle ad Octavianum, at the end of the collection of letters. 
But that is a question which must be left to the historian of the text of Cicero’s letters. 
For the Commentariolum E was first employed as representing the purest source of 
the text by Biicheler in his edition of 1868. The value of H for this treatise was 
pointed out by Baehrens, who published a careful collation of the text in his Miscel- 

89 


22 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 





lanea Critica (Groningen, 1579). The edition of Miller (Leipzig, 1898) was the 
first to present a text based upon these two sources: it has now been followed by 
that of Purser (Oxford, 1902). The problem of relationship between the texts offered 
by these two manuscripts is one which can only be solved by a study of the affinities 
of the two codices asa whole. Some remarks on this point will be found in Colla- 
tions from the Harleian MS. of Cicero 2682, by A. C. Clark (Oxford, 1892), on pp. 
xiv-xvi. I have examined both manuscripts myself without, however, finding anything 
of importance to correct in the collations of Bacheler and Baehrens, except in a single 
instance, which will be noted below. 

Before taking up the passages in which I shall endeavor to emend the text, I 
would note briefly that in a few instances the readings of our manuscripts are defended 
against proposed deletions by the rhythmical laws which have been set forth in the 
preceding section. So, for example, Biicheler edits in 

12: qui nequaquam sunt tam genere |insignes| quam vitiis nobiles. But the 
soundness of our text is fully vindicated by the presence of the rhythmical balance 
which was pointed out above p. 21. Similarly Bicheler (whom Miller and Purser 
follow) edits in 

57: st nostros ad summum studium |benivolos| excitamus. But we have seen 
above (p. 21) that the sequence of clausules in the series of sentences beginning with 
si, demands the (resolved) cretic benivolos before the double trochee excitamus. In 
view of these cases I hesitate to follow Bicheler (and Miller) in 


1: etsi. . . . suppetunt ea quae consequi ingenio aut usu homines [aut intelli- 
gentia| possunt. For although the clausule - ~ ~ - | - - (usw homines possunt) 
is found, yet of vastly more frequent occurrence is the form - ~- | - - (intelli- 


gentia possunt). 

The author begins with the resources which will be of assistance to Cicero as a 
novus homo. In sec. 3 he enumerates the classes of men whom Cicero already has, 
and among them studio dicendi conciliatos plurimos adulescentulos. These are to be 
confirmed in their allegiance. To be won over to his support are homines nobiles, 
especially those of consular rank, and young men of noble family. 

6: praeterea adolescentes nobiles elabora ut habeas vel ut teneas studiosos. quos 
habes multum dignitatis afferent. Most editors (and so Miller) omit the period after 
studiosos, and punctuate after habes. The words vel ut teneas are, I believe, corrupt, 
for as an alternative to wt habeas they are inept, if not meaningless, since the adoles- 
centes nobiles cannot be held (teneas) until they are won (habeas). But Cicero 
already has a constituency of young men, studio dicendi conciliatos (3). Now the 
adolescentes nobiles are to be won to the same allegiance as those whom he already 
has. I read, therefore: praeterea adolescentes nobiles elabora ut habeas, VELUT 
TENES studiosos quos habes. 

In this connection I would take up a very difficult and corrupt passage in 33. 
To understand it aright it is necessary to go back to 29, in which the necessity of 

90 


w 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 2 





Cicero’s strengthening his position by varied friendships is set forth. The matter is 
taken up ina partitio as follows: primum (29), deinde (30), postea (80); whereupon 
follows the passage in question in 

33: iam equitum centuriae multo facilius mihi diligentia posse teneri videntur. 
primum cognosce equites, pauci enim sunt. deinde appete . . . . deinde habes tecum 
ex tuventute optimum quemque et studiosissimum humanitatis; tum autem quod 
equester ordo tuus est, sequentur illi auctoritatem ordinis, si abs te adhibebitur ea 
diligentia, ut non ordinis solum voluntate sed etiam singulorum amicitiis eas centurias 
confirmatas habeas. Accepting the corrections which H affords, incorporated in Miller’s 
text as here given, the remaining difficulties of this passage consist, first, in the appar- 
ent absence of a concluding member to the partitio and, secondly, in the obscurity of 
reference in ili. This word would seem to refer to the young men mentioned just 
before (optimum quemque, etc.). But if that is the meaning, it is remarkable that at 
one moment Cicero is said to hold the allegiance of a certain class, and in the next that 
the same class should be referred to as one that will follow the authority of the 
equites in support of him, provided sufficient care is exercised. The equites are 
already Cicero’s friends (cf. 3); with care their loyalty is assured (diligentia posse 
teneri). They are therefore disposed of briefly. Now in the enumeration above 
referred to we had the divisions primum, deinde, postea, iam. But last of all and as 
a class distinguished from the equites”’ appear the adolescentes. Deinde I would there- 
fore change to DENIQUE, introducing the concluding member of the partitio. In this 
class are to be taken up first those adolescentes whom Cicero already has, viz., optimum 
quemque et studiosissimum humanitatis (the studio dicendi conciliatos of 3). But 
just as in secs. 3 and 6 the adolescentes were, as we saw, of two kinds, so also here. 
For apart from the young men who are attracted to Cicero by oratorical pursuits, there 
are others, for whom another motive to allegiance must be provided—the authority 
and example of the ordo equester. I would read therefore: DENIQUE habes tecum ex 
iuventute optimum quemque et studiosissimum humanitatis. twm autem quod equester 
ordo tuus est sequentur atm auctoritatem ordinis, etc. For the form of expression 
optimum quemque ... . alii, cf. de Officiis, I, 99. 

9: educatus in sororis stupris. The passage is thus edited in all the texts, and 
according to Biicheler’s apparatus (ex silentio) is the reading of E. But E reads 
without variant sororwm, which is confirmed by H, reading sorore, with correction by 
the original hand to sororuwm, which should therefore be restored to the text. 

18: hos tu homines quibuscumque poteris rationibus, ut ex animo atque ex illa 
summa, voluntate tui studiosi sint elaborato. H reads ex illo, Meyncke conjectured 
ex intuma voluntate. Illa is defended rather ingeniously than convincingly by Tyrrell 
ad loc. It would seem that critics have overlooked a very simple correction here, 
unless the formulary character of swmma voluntate seemed to forbid change. I would 


15Qn this distinction (which is also made in 3 and G) and the correctness of it, cf. MOMMSEN, Rém. Staatsrecht, 
Vol. III, p. 484 and note. 


91 


24 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO Q. CICERO 








read MAxuMA (spelled maswma, thus giving rise to illa summa) voluntate. Cicero 
affords at least one example of maxuma voluntate (Verr., II, 2, 51), and probably 
there are others. 

23: Tertium illud genus est studiorum voluntarium. Bicheler makes a readable 
text by bracketing studiorum, and is followed by Miller and Purser. Eussner (Tyrrell 
and others) correct to studioswm voluntartumque. The passage is the third member of 
a partitio outlined in 21, to which dllud refers: tribus rebus homines ducuntur ... . 
beneficio, spe, adiunctione animi ac voluntate. These members are then taken up singly 
—beneficiis (21), spe (22), and so to the passage in hand. It will be observed that the 
reason for loyalty in each case is derived from a source named, which fails for the third 
member. Methodical correction should not, therefore, make the source co-ordinate 
with the end as in Eussner’s reading —studiosum (the end) voluntariwmque (source). 
We require rather: tertium illud genus est studiosum VOLUNTATE, the correctness of 
which is revealed by the words which follow: quod... . significanda erga illos 
pari voluntate ... . confirmari oportebit, where pari points back to the preceding 
voluntate. Cf. de Inv., Il, 166: amicitia (est) voluntas erga aliquem ... . cum 
eius pari voluntate. 

24: Hos ut inter nos calumniatores spe. The L group restores the thought with 
hos ut internoscas videto ne spe. Bicheler reads elaborato. What imperative stood 
here it is impossible to say with certainty, but from the group of letters—wmni—in 
calumniatores we may restore confidently OMNIS (cf. umeris from umnis, the reading 
of H for omnis in 48). We shall not be far from the truth for the whole passage in 
reading: Hos ut internoscas OMNIS CURATO ne spe, ete. Omnis is appropriately used 
in a summary following the enumeration of various classes (cf. 19 extr., and 23 extr.). 

838: nec aliud ullum tempus futurumst ut tibt referre gratiam possint. Bicheler, 
in the critical apparatus says against the lemma wf: ‘aw cum superscripta ¢f, non wht 
vocis compendium.” But according to Baehrens whi is the reading of H, and reference 
to Prou, Manuel de Paléographie (2d ed., 1892), p. 335, will show that the compen- 
dium which Bicheler here describes (but the superscribed letter is not of course f) 
stands regularly for whi. The matter has seemed worth mentioning, because here, as 
in a number of other cases where Miller has followed Bicheler, there is discernible a 
tendency toward the establishment of a vulgate text. But Purser reads correctly wbi. 

41: Dicendum est de illa altera parte petitionis quae in populari ratione versa- 
tur. ea desiderat nomenclationem, blanditiam, assiduitatem, benigiitatem, rumorem, 
spem in re publica. H reads spem in rem publicam; 1 50, speciem in re publica. 
The interpretation of the phrase spem in re publica seems to me difficult. There is 
spem in re publica positam. But that surely 
has little to do with the ratio popularis, with which the other requisites named are 
concerned. Each one of these is considered in detail; nomenclatio (42) blanditia (42) 
assiduitas (43) benignitas (44) rumor (50). Editors I presume have held that spem 
in re publica is taken up in the partitio at 53: atque etiam in hac petitione maxime 

92 





but one meaning the words can have 


GEORGE LINCOLN HENDRICKSON 25 





videndum est ut spes rei publicae bona de te sit et honesta opinio. But this is a 
totally different thing from the spem in re publica of 41, which proceeds from Cicero, 
and can only mean Cicero’s hope or confidence in the state, while spes rei publicae 
bona de te proceeds from the people, and refers to their confidence in him. Further- 
more, if this passage were the concluding member of the partitio, we should expect 
some transitional word like denique or postremo to introduce it, and not a formula 
which points to something new —atque etiam (cf. Seyffert, Schol. Lat., Vol. I, p. 22). 
But in 52 (init.) after long consideration of rumor the author writes: postremo tota 
petitio cura ut pompae plena sit, ut illustris, ut splendida, ut popularis sit, ut habeat 
summam speciem ac dignitatem. These words, I am convinced, give us the true con- 
clusion of the partitio outlined in 41, as is indicated by postremo, and also by the 
summarizing of the ratio popularis which is suggested by the last of the accumulated 
adjectives ut popularis sit. They reveal also that 150 (from whatever source) has 
given at least a partially correct reading in 41 — speciem in re publica; for it is some 
such word of external demonstration or display that we require to correspond to the 
others of the group—nomenclatio, blanditia, etc. In itself speciem in re publica 
might conceivably stand as a satisfactory reading; but since it occurs in the treatment 
of the ratio popularis, it would seem to me that in re publica is too general, if indeed 
the political connotation of the word would be tolerable here at all. I conjecture, 
therefore, SPECIEM IN PUBLICO, for which ef. Tacitus, Dial., 6, 12 (where Aper is 
speaking of the rewards of the orator): iam vero qui togatorum comitatus et egressus! 
quae in publico species! 

I would point out, finally, that sec. 53, to which I have alluded above (videndum 
est ut spes rei publicae bona de te sit), does not belong to the division of the work 
devoted to the ratio popularis, but follows it (introduced by atque etiam) as a con- 
cluding section to the whole of the second main division consulatum peto. Accord- 
ingly it takes into account not the populus only, but all classes of citizens— senatus, 
equites et viri boni, multitudo. 


93 


- 





A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF 
CHICAGO 


- 





A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 
Cart Daruina Buck 


Tue linguistic conditions in some of our largest American cities are unique in the 
history of the world — an unparalleled babel of foreign tongues, yet undergoing absorp- 
tion so rapidly and so naturally that the “language question,” which looms up so large 
in the contemporary history of many European states, does not exist for us as a dis- 
turbing problem. . 

I say “unparalleled babel” with all due regard to the claims of Constantinople, 
Cairo, and other cities of the Orient, past and present. In Constantinople, with the 
heterogeneous constituency of the army and the harem, augmented by the ranks of 
European officials and visitors, the number of languages represented may on occasions 
be as great as in New York or Chicago. But it must be remembered that only a few of 
these languages are spoken by large bodies of the population, whereas in Chicago there 
are some fourteen languages, besides English, each of which is spoken by 10,000 or 
more persons. Newspapers appear regularly in ten languages, and church services 
may be heard in about twenty languages. Chicago is the second largest Bohemian 
city of the world, the third Swedish, the third Norwegian, the fourth Polish, the fifth 
German (New York being the fourth). In all there are some forty foreign languages 
spoken by numbers ranging from half a dozen to half a million, and aggregating over 
one million. 

Astudy of the language situation in Chicago, which in a general way is typical of 
that in our other large cities, has two main points of interest. One is a phase of the 
general problem of the linguistic consequences of race-mixture. What is the result, 
as regards language, of the particular conditions of race-mixture that are exemplified 
here? The other is the constituency of the foreign element. To know what languages 
and groups of languages are represented here, and in what proportions, is a matter of 
interest, not only to the philologist, but also to the historian and sociologist, for in 
most cases linguistic divisions correspond to present racial divisions, and with a few 
notable exceptions, like the Irish, language is the best available test of nationality. 

In an article entitled ‘‘Language-Rivalry and Speech-Differentiation in the 
Case of Race-Mixture,”' Professor Hempl has given a classification of the character- 
istic types of race-mixture known to history, according to numbers, general conditions, 
and attendant linguistic results. Of necessity the kind of race-mixture going on in 
this country is put in a class by itself. The foreigners come in vast numbers, roughly 
speaking half a million a year. In many cities they form with their descendants in 
the first generation the majority of the population. Moreover, the different national- 
ities in the cities are to a large degree locally segregated, and many of them mariy 


1 Transactions of the American Philological Association, Vol. XXIX, pp. 31 ff. 


97 


4 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 





almost exclusively within their own limits.* Nevertheless the social and economic 
conditions are such that all this has not the slightest effect on the supremacy of the 
English language. Nor is it possible to produce tangible evidence of any permanent 
effect on the character of the English. This easy victory of the established language 
is doubtless assisted by the fact that the competition is divided. But even if all the 
immigrants were of the same nationality, the absorption of their language would take 
place no less certainly, only somewhat less rapidly. 

Observation and inquiries among representatives of the different nationalities show 
that the process of absorption is substantially the same everywhere. The immigrants 
themselves must and do learn more or less English, but it remains to them a foreign 
tongue, acquired with all degrees of proficiency according to the individual’s age at 
arrival, length of residence, occupation, and general intelligence. 

The second generation is bilingual. The children learn first their parents’ mother- 
tongue; but as soon as they are out on the street and in school they learn English, 
and it is not long before they speak it by preference. Children the world over are 
contemptuous of foreigners, and a boy does not care to add to his schoolmates’ capa- 
city for teasing by inviting epithets like ‘“Dutchy,” “Canuck,” ‘Dago,” or “ Polak,” 
which are hurled about with no less freedom by those who are themselves of foreign 
parentage, and not always with any nice discrimination between them. From this 
period on English is the language most used, and it is a question of how far they also 
retain a familiarity with their parents’ mother-tongue. Some remain truly bilingual, 
others speak their parents’ language, but with some effort, and occasionally it happens 
that grown-up sons and daughters cannot converse with their parents except in Eng- 
lish. The third generation, even of unmixed foreign descent, generally knows only 
English. ‘This is true of the nationalities already represented in three generations, for 
example the German, Polish, and Bohemian, and the result cannot be otherwise in the 
case of the more recent classes of immigrants. If the stream of immigration were to 
cease, it would only be a question of time when church services and newspapers in 
foreign languages would be unknown, 

There are of course exceptions to the general course of development as stated. 
Some of the more well-to-do and intelligent families retain and hand down an interest 
in the language and literature of the country of their origin through several genera- 
tions. Or, again, if we look outside the cities, we find isolated colonies in various 
parts of the country where a foreign tongue has been kept through several generations 
and English but little used. Such, for example, are some of the Swedish farming 
communities in the Northwest. There is said to be an old Polish colony in Texas where 
the language has been spoken for generations and where even the negroes speak Polish. 
The same conservatism may be looked for in some of the Finnish mining villages of 
Michigan, the recent Russian colonies in the Dakotas, etc. But even for these condi- 


2For example, according to the school census of 1898, of Bohemian parents on both sides, while only 799 had but 
there were in Chicago 47,965 children born in this country one parent Bohemian. 


98 


CarxL Dartine Buck 5 





tions it is unsafe to generalize. 
settlements have kept their language for several generations, the recent colonists in 
North Dakota are “ progressive ;” that is, they are Americanized with the same rapid- 
ity as in the cities. 

It is possible that, aside from conditions of environment, the rapidity of absorp- 
tion differs somewhat among different nationalities, some having a greater tenacity 
than others in the retention of their language. But on this point it is difficult te 
secure any tangible evidence. 

The absorption of the various languages does not appear to be accompanied by 
any permanent effects on the character of the English spoken. Except in isolated 
communities, the speech of the second generation seldom betrays any foreign influence 
either in pronunciation or in vocabulary. It is often a vulgar form of English, but 
not differing from that of persons of native descent in the same social position. 

There is, however, a marked influence exerted by the dominant English upon the 
other languages as spoken here.’ The German of the German-American is full of 
English words either unchanged or provided with German endings or prefixes, and of 
English idioms clothed in German words, an interesting phase of which is the use of 
German words in meanings adopted from the corresponding English words, as in the well- 
known ich gleiche “I like,” or ich eigne “IT own.” The Frenchman makes groceur of 
grocer, couque of “cook,” ete. In the Lithuanian quarter one sees painted in huge letters 
on a blank wall the advertisement of didziausias departmentinis sztoras pietinej daly), 
in which, equipped with antique endings and surrounded by formations which are the 
pride and joy of philologists, we recognize the highly modern department store. 


For example, while some of the older Norwegian 


An exhaustive study of this phenomenon, interesting as it is, is not possible for 
any one person. It demands a separate investigator for each language and one entirely 
at home in the idioms of this language as well as in English.“ But inquiries upon 
this point among representatives of many nationalities leave no doubt in my mind 
that substantially the same sort of mixture which is best known in the case of our 
German-American exists in the other languages spoken here. 

We turn now to the question of the constituency of the foreign speech-element 
in Chicago, and in mentioning the various languages and peoples I shall add some 
remarks on their representation in the country at large. Although some of these facts 
are so easily accessible as perhaps scarcely to deserve repetition, others, for some of 
the less-known nationalities, have been gained, incidentally to my inquiries regarding 
local conditions, from private sources and will not be unwelcome additions.’ 


3 With the fact that the foreign languages spoken here 
are influenced by English, but not English by them, com- 
pare the remarks of Windisch, ‘‘ Zur Theorie der Misch- 
sprachen und Lehnworter,” Sitzwngsberichte der sdichs. 
Gesellschaft der Wissenchaft, phil.-hist. Classe, 1897, pp. 
101 ff. 

4Some of the forms of mixture have already been in- 
vestigated in detail, e. g., the language of the Pennsylvania 
Germans, of the Portuguese in New England, etc. 


5T have not touched upon the history of the immigra- 
tion from the various countries. For the older elements, 
German, Irish, Swedish, Norwegian, etc., the subject has 
been fully treated, but there is ample opportunity for 
further work along similar lines. A history of Slavic im- 
migration would be of great value, and I am glad to learn 
that Professor Wiener has it in mind to gather materials 
for such a work, 


6 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 








It may be thought that the Census Reports, with their elaborate statistics of 
foreign population, covering, for the Census of 1900, 174 pages, render any further 
investigation superfluous. This, however, is not the case. And, while acknowledging 
my indebtedness to them in certain respects, I shall not hesitate to point out their 
limitations. The most serious defect, and one which is fatal to the full realization of 
the purposes of such statistics, is the lack of any adequate system of classification. In 
general, the classification is according to political divisions, but concessions are made 
to certain nationalities which have no independent political existence at present. For 
example, not to mention Ireland, Wales, Bohemia, etc., the Poles keep their identity 
in the Reports, and even the Finns, relatively small as their numbers are, are given 
a place. No one can question the propriety of such a recognition of nationalities not 
politically distinct, only it must be carried much farther in order to give any proper 
idea of the constituency of our foreign population, particularly of those elements 
which form such an important part of the most recent immigration. The truth seems 
to be that a system of classification which was once reasonably satisfactory has not 
been sufficiently enlarged to meet the present conditions. 

To give some examples. The Lithuanians, who in language and sentiment 
form a distinct people, and are represented by thousands of immigrants, are nowhere 
mentioned.” In Chicago they were told by the enumerators that, there being no 
provision for Lithuanians, they might be either Poles or Russians. Whether in other 
places they were classified under Poland or Russia, or both, it is impossible to say. 
For the enumerators are not always so impartial in such cases, as may be illustrated by — 
the procedure reported to me by a Slovakian. There being no special provision for 
Slovakians, of whom there are some ten thousand here in Chicago, not to speak of the 
immense numbers in the Pennsylvania mining regions, one would naturally expect 
them to be put under Hungary, to which they have belonged politically for more 
than a thousand years. But in the case referred to, the enumerator, a German, was 
not disposed to augment the number of Hungarians and so entered the Slovakian 
under Austria. A Bohemian enumerator—and there may well have been such —would 
undoubtedly have entered him as a Bohemian, and such a classification, though 
eminently unsatisfactory to the Slovakian, would at least have more justification, since 
the Slovakians and Bohemians are most closely related. 

The Croatians, of whom there are over one hundred thousand in the country, are 
likewise unknown in the Reports, being entered under Austria. The same is true of 
the less numerous Slovenians.’ And, in general, it is clear that the figures given under 
Austria and under Hungary have no real significance as they stand, though they are 
used constantly in articles on labor and immigration problems. 





6 For the school census of 1896, the innovation was made 7 A Slovenian priest told me that, finding he could only 
of classifying the Lithuanians separately, and several be entered as an Austrian, he refused to make any return 
Lithuanian enumerators were appointed. In 1898 the  asto nationality. If this is not an exaggerated statement 
separate classification was retained, but no Lithuanian of his attitude, he was one of those necessitating the 
enumerators appointed, and the number dropped from heading ‘Europe (not otherwise specified).”’ 

2,897 to 1,411, although, as a matter of fact, the Lithuanians 
lad been pouring in constantly, as they have since then. 
100 


CarLu Daruine Buck 7 





There are now considerable numbers of Armenian and of Syrian immigrants, but 
it is only by comparing outside information as to their location in different parts of 
the country with certain figures given in the Census under the heads of “Asia, except 
China, Japan and India,” and “Turkey,” that one discovers that they form the chief 
components of these classes. Judging from the figures of Chicago and some other 
cities, the Armenians seem to haye been put under Turkey and the Syrians under 
Asia, though it is not clear how consistently this distinction, the grounds for which 
are not obvious, was maintained. 

That many other nationalities, represented by very small numbers, such as the 
Icelanders, Letts, Bulgarians, etce., should not be given a separate place in the classi- 
fication, is less surprising, and perhaps unavoidable so long as only the roughest pic- 
ture of the foreign element is aimed at.* 

_ For those nationalities which are properly provided for in the classification the 
figures are, of course, of great value, though far from infallible. In all the statistics 
on foreign population there is inevitably a greater proportion of error than in the 
Census asa whole. The newly arrived foreigner, ignorant and knowing yet but little 
English, vaguely suspects the enumerator of being a constable or a spy, and thinks his 
safest course is to give false answers. To get at the actual truth would require more 
time, and, generally speaking, more intelligence, than the enumerators have at their 
disposal. In the case of the statistics of foreign parentage one has to reckon also with 
the deliberate falsehood of many who are so thoroughly Americanized as to regard 
even foreign parentage as a taint which must be concealed. 
amount of this misrepresentation is beyond any question. 

For these reasons the independent estimates of intelligent representatives of the 
different nationalities may often be nearer the truth than the Census figures, and for 
the many nationalities about which, as explained above, the Census furnishes no infor- 
mation, they are our only source. It is true that the disposition to exaggerate the 
numbers of one’s countrymen is often apparent, but this may be largely counteracted 
by securing several estimates and by inquiring somewhat closely into the basis of 
them. And in general it may be said that, through various sources, such as the vot- 
ing lists, the membership of their churches, the subscription lists of their newspapers, 
and the enrolment in their societies, which flourish in astounding numbers among the 
foreign population, the leading men of the various nationalities have a pretty accurate 


That there is a vast 


8 But there is no reason why the machinery of the Cen- 
sus should not be employed to secure the necessary lin- 
guistic data for a fairly complete representation of the 
foreign element and its distribution—such data as are col- 
lected by various European governments, é. g., in Austro- 
Hungary, where the statistics for the various elements in 
the population are based entirely on the linguistic test, or 
in Great Britain, where statistics are gathered for the lin- 
guistic conditions in Ireland, Wales, ete. In India, where 
matters are infinitely more complicated than here (the 
names of languages returned numbered many hundreds 
and even after sifting and classification were not reduced 


to less than one hundred and fifty items), the language 
census, forming part of the general Census, has more than 
succeeded in its modest object of getting ‘“‘a photograph, 
as it were, of the existing distribution of language in India, 
from the popular standpoint, which might to some extent 
guide the more leisurely and comprehensive researches of 
competent specialists ”’ (BAINES, ‘“‘ The Language Census of 
India,” Transactions of the Ninth Oriental Congress). Only 
experience will show in just what form the best results 
are to be obtained, but it is hoped that with the recent 
establishment of the Census Bureau some progress will be 
made along this line. 


101 


8 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 








idea of the numbers of their countrymen.” I have taken, as fairly indicative of the 
linguistic representation, the figures which include the second generation of unmixed 
foreign parentage, that is, in the case of the Census Reports, Tables 54, 55, 59, 
and 60, which cover ‘‘persons having both parents born in a specified country.” ” 
For it may be assumed that the number of those of the second generation not speak- 
ing (in addition to English) the language of their parents is offset by the number of 
those of the third generation who do speak the language of their parents and grand- 
parents. At best, the figures given are only approximate and intended merely to 
give a picture of the relative strength of the various elements. 

In the following survey, the language-families, their principal subdivisions, and the 
languages in each are given in the order of their relative numerical strength in Chi- 
I have not thought it worth while to differentiate further and to attempt to 
show the representation of the dialects of each language. In the case of languages 
spoken by large numbers, such as German, Swedish, Polish, etc., one may be reasona- 
bly certain that all the dialects are represented.” 

There is, however, as every student of language knows, no objective, purely lin- 
guistic, criterion of language versus dialect, some languages differing from one another 
far less than many dialects; and our choice of terms depends upon considerations geo- 
graphical and historical as well as linguistic. I have intended simply to follow ordinary 
usage in this matter, though in some few cases the procedure will need some comment. 

That the picture of the linguistic elements of Chicago’s population is complete I 
should not venture to hope. It is highly probable that there are several languages, 
spoken by a few individuals, which have escaped my notice. And of the languages 
mentioned, the part played by each could be described with greater elaboration. But 
even this sketch will, it is hoped, prove of sufficient interest and value to repay the 
very considerable expenditure of time involved in gathering the materials. 


cago. 


INDO-EUROPEAN 
GERMANIC 
WEST GERMANIC 
English.— English is of course spoken by nearly the whole population. 
German.—German is spoken, it is safe to say, by more than half a million, The 
Census figures of Table 60 for Germany are 363,319, while the school census of 1898 


9The sources of my information are far too numerous 
to mention in detail. I have talked with consular officials, 
priests, newspaper editors, and business men, and can 
acknowledge their assistance only in this general way. I 
am, however, under special obligation to a former pupil, 
Mr. Marienburger, for assistance in securing information 
upon the linguistic conditions of the Jewish population. 
In noting the extent to which the different languages are 


represented in the press I have derived much information 
from the Lord and Thomas Pocket Directory of the Ameri- 
can Press, but in nearly all cases have corrected and aug- 


mented this from private sources. 


10The table usually quoted is 60, which gives the num- 
bers of ‘“‘white persons having both parents born in 
specified country” for cities of over 25,000. 

11 To illustrate Chieago’s possibilities as a linguistic 
laboratory I may mention the fact that of the eleven 
Lithuanian dialects spoken in the Russian province of 
Koyno, according to the minute classification of Bara- 
noyski (see LESKIEN, Idg. Forsch. Anz., Vol. XIII, pp. 79 
ff.), every one is represented here. 


102 


Cart DarRtine Buck 9 





gave 469,014. To these figures would have to be added a portion of those tabulated 
under Austria, Hungary, Belgium, and Switzerland. Many leading Germans think 
600,000 nearer the truth. Eyen at the conservative estimate of 500,000 German- 
speaking persons, Chicago ranks as the fifth German city of the world, New York 
being the fourth. 

More than twenty German newspapers and periodicals are published here, includ- 
ing such important dailies as the Staats-Zeitung, Freie Presse, and Abendpost. 

As is well known, the German forms by far the largest element of our foreign 
population, and is distributed over every state, though strongest in New York and 
Illinois. The German papers in the country number between two and three hundred. 

YViddish”.— Yiddish is spoken by upward of 50,000 persons. 

There are two Yiddish dailies, the Daily Jewish Call and the Daily Jewish Courier, 
and a Yiddish theater in which performances are given nightly. 

New York is the great Yiddish center, containing over 200,000 Yiddish-speaking 
Jews, and it is there that the leading Yiddish papers are published. 

Dutch.— Dutch is spoken by about 35,000. The Census figures for those born in 
Holland (Table 35) are 18,555. No statistics for Holland are given under Table 60, 
but to include the second generation it would be fair to double this number. And, 
without knowledge of the Census returns, the Dutch estimate has been between thirty 
and forty thousand. 

There are two Dutch weeklies, De Nederlander and Onze Toekomst. 

Chicago is the first city of the country in the number of its Dutch, Grand Rapids, 
Mich., being second, and Paterson, N. J., third. Of the states, the Dutch element is 
strongest in Michigan, where, besides the large numbers in Grand Rapids, there are 
several towns almost purely Dutch, including one called “Holland,” the seat of Hope 
College. Of the fifteen Dutch papers in the country, nine are published in Michigan. 

Flemish.*— Flemish is spoken by upward of 1,000, possibly by 2,000 persons. 


The largest Flemish population is in Wisconsin, and two Flemish weeklies appear 
in DePere, Wis., De Volksstem and Onze Standaard. 
Frisian."— Frisian is spoken by some 2,000 persons from the Dutch province of 


Friesland. 


12] mention Yiddish at this point for the reason that its 
principal component is a form of High German which for 
several centuries has been isolated from the literary lan- 
guage of Germany and pursued itsown deve-opment. That 
I do not ignore it like other German dialects (see p. 8), but 
treat it as a distinct language, is due not merely to the 
strong admixture of Slavic and Hebrew words (together, 
according to Wiener, about 30 per cent.), but also to the 
fact that it has come to be regarded by the Jews in Slavic 
countries as their own distinctive language, and boasts a 
literature of no mean value. 


13The dialects of the Germanic-speaking portion of 
Belgium are closely related to and co-ordinate with the 
Dutch dialects of Holland, and the literary language, 
which since the ‘“‘ Flemish movement ’”’ has gradually dis- 
placed French, is the same as the Dutch literary language. 


But this is called Flemish, not Dutch, and for convenience 
we have kept the distinction, meaningless as it is from the 
purely linguistic point of view. The two papers mentioned 
are classed as Flemish simply because they are Catholic 
and appeal mainly to the Flemish population. 

14Of all the Germanic languages and dialects of the 
continent Frisian is the one most closely related to Eng- 
lish, and forms with it the Anglo-Frisian branch of West- 
Germanic, in contrast to German (High and Low) and 
Dutch. Its distinction from Dutch is then, unlike that 
between Flemish and Dutch, fundamental. Frisian is 
used to a limited extent as a literary language and Frisian 
newspapers are published in Leeuwarden. This is properly 
West-Frisian. It is probable that among the immigrants 
from Germany there are some from the coast of Holstein, 
where North-Frisian is spoken. 


103 


10 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 





In general, Frisians are found wherever there are other immigrants from Hol- 
land in large numbers, so that their centers are the same as those of the Dutch. 
There is no Frisian paper published in this country. 


NORTH GERMANIC OR SCANDINAVIAN 


Swedish.— Swedish is spoken by upward of 100,000. The Census figures of 
Table 60 are 95,878, while the school census of 1898 gave 109,755. The Swedish 
estimate is 115,000. Ten Swedish papers are published here, the most important 
being the Svenska Kuriren and the Svenska Tribunen, both weeklies. 

Chicago is the third Swedish city of the world and has more than twice as many 
Swedes as any other city in the country, New York being second and Minneapolis 
third. Of the states Minnesota has the largest Swedish population. 

There are over fifty Swedish papers in the country. 

Norwegian.— Norwegian” is spoken by some 50,000 persons. The Census 
figures of Table 60 are 37,886, while the school census of 1898 gave 44,980. The 
Norwegians regard 50,000 as a conservative estimate. 

Seven Norwegian papers are published in the city, the Skandinaven, daily and 
semi-weekly, being the leading Norwegian paper of the country. 

Chicago is the third Norwegian city in the world and the first in this country, 
Minneapolis being second, and New York third. Of the states, Minnesota contains 
the greatest number of Norwegians, though North Dakota has the largest percentage 
of Norwegians to the total population. 

There are over sixty Norwegian and Danish papers in the country. 

Danish."— Danish is spoken by some 20,000 persons. The Census figures of 
Table 60 are 15,185, those of the school census of 1898, 21,261. 

There are two Danish papers, the Chicago-Posten and the Revyen, both weeklies. 

Chicago is the first Danish city of the country, New York being second, Racine, 
Wis., third, and Omaha, Neb., fourth. Of the states Iowa has the greatest number 
of Danes. 

TIcelandic.—Icelandic is spoken by some 100 persons. 

The principal Icelandic settlements in the United States are in North Dakota, 
mostly in Pembina county, and in Minnesota, mostly in Lyon and Lincoln counties. 
In these states there are several thousand Icelanders. There is also a colony of about 
200 on Washington Island, Wisconsin, and a few Icelandic settlers are found in some 
other states. 


15The Norwegian literary language and cultivated 
speech differs but slightly from the Danish, and in fact is, his- 


the important Norwegian papers, though read to some ex- 
tent by Danes also, preserve their specific Norwegian char- 


torically considered, nothing but the imported Danish which 
has prevailed since the Reformation, more or less colored 
by the Norwegian dialects. But even in this literary lan- 
guage the Norwegian coloring is suflicient to make it seem 
to the Norwegians themselves a language distinet from the 
Danish. And, while some churches and some newspapers 
published in this country are known as Danish-Norwegian, 


acter. Moreover, the real Norwegian of the dialects is 
radically different from Danish,belonging with Icelandie to 
the West-Scandinavian branch, while Danish belongs with 
Swedish to the eastern group. Sothat it is justifiable to 
keep the Norwegian and Danish elements apart even from 
a linguistic standpoint. 


16 See preceding footnote. 


104 


CarL Dartina Buck 11 








A weekly paper, the Vinland, is published at Minneota, Minn. 
The Icelanders are more numerous in Manitoba, and there are four Icelandic 
papers,” three published at Winnipeg and one at Gimli, in a district known as New 


Iceland. 
BALTO-SLAVIC 


SLAVIO 

Polish.— Polish is spoken by more than 100,000, possibly by 150,000 persons. 
The Census figures of Table 60 are 107,669, while the school census of 1898 gave 
96,463. But the opportunities for wrong classification are great in the case of the 
Poles, and a conservative Polish estimate puts the number at 150,000. 

There are about a dozen Polish papers in the city, including two dailies, the 
Dziennik Chicagoski and the Dzienuik Naradowy. 

Chicago is probably the fourth Polish city of the world,” and contains more than 
twice as many Poles as any other city of the country, New York being second, fol- 
lowed by Milwaukee and Buffalo. Of the states Illinois is first in its Polish popula- 
tion, owing mainly to the numbers in Chicago, Pennsylvania coming second with its 
large body of Poles throughout the mining regions. 

There are between thirty and forty Polish papers in the country. 

Bohemian.— Bohemian is spoken by about 90,000 persons. The Census, Table 
60, gives 72,862, the school census of 1898, 88,581. 

There are fifteen Bohemian papers in the city, including four dailies, the Svor- 
nost, the Denni Hlasatel, the Narod, and the Lidove Noviny. 

Chicago is undoubtedly the second Bohemian city in the world, since Brinn is 
about half German. It contains nearly three times as many Bohemians as any other city 
in the country, Cleveland, O., being second and New York third. Of the states Illinois 
is first, followed by Nebraska, where there is a large Bohemian farming population. 

There are more than forty Bohemian papers in the country. 

Slovakian."—Slovakian is spoken by about 10,000. 

The Slovakian population is most numerous in Pennsylvania, particularly in Pitts- 
burg and Allegheny. The states next in order, in the strength of their Slovakian 
population, are Ohio, New York, New Jersey, and Illinois. 

Hight Slovakian papers are published in the country, six of them in Pennsylvania, 
one of the most important being the Amerikano Slovenske Noviny, a weekly published 
in Pittsburg.” 


17At Winnipeg the Légberg, Heimskringla, and Sa- vians since the beginning of the tenth century, when they 
meiningen (this last a religious monthly); at Gimli the were conquered by the Hungarians. Consequently they 
Dagsskra, feel themselves a distinct people, do not wish to be identi- 


18 There is little doubt, I think, that it outranks Posen fied with the Bohemians, and since the early part of the 
with a population of 117,017. According to some Polish nineteenth century have used their own dialect as their 
estimates it would outrank Vilna (154,532) and so be the _ literary language, instead of the Bohemian. 
third Polish city of the world. 20The others are Slovensky Dennik (daily), Pittsburg; 

1° Slovakian is very closely related to Bohemian, infact Slovak V Amerika, New York; Bratstno, Wilkesbarre, Pa.; 
represents a dialect, or set of dialects, co-ordinate with Slovenska Pravda, Freeland, Pa.; Jednota, Scranton, Pa.; 
those of Bohemia and Moravia. But the Slovakians haye Viera, Cleveland, O.; Slovenske Noviny, Hazleton, Pa. 
been separated politically from the Bohemians and Mora- 


105 


12 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIO CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 





Serbo-Croatian.'—Croatian is spoken by some 10,000, from Croatia and the 
Dalmatian coast. 

There are two Croatian papers, the Chicago Sloboda and the Branik. 

While no other city contains a larger number of Croatians (Pittsburg and Alle- 
gheny together have about the same number), the great mass of the Croatian popula- 
tion is in Pennsylvania, where there are about 38,000. The states next in order are 
Tllinois, California, Ohio, Montana.” 

There are in all seven Croatian papers, including two dailies, the Narodni List 
in New York and the Hrvatska in Allegheny.” 

Of “Servians”* there are perhaps 100, of whom only about half a dozen are 
from the kingdom of Servia, two or three from Montenegro, four or five from Bosnia, 
and the rest from Herzegovina or Dalmatia. 

So far as I have learned, there is nowhere in the country any considerable number 
of immigrants from Servia proper, yet the Servian element is strong enough to make 
possible the existence of five weekly newspapers calling themselves Servian.” Each 
of these is printed partly in the Cyrillic and partly in the Latin alphabet. 
said to be several hundred Montenegrins in California. 

Russian.— Russian is spoken by some 7,000, possibly as many as 10,000, nearly 
all Jews. The Census figures for Russia, whether accurate or not, are of no value for 
linguistic purposes; for they represent in large part Jews, only a small proportion of 
whom speak Russian as well as Yiddish. The American-born children even of those 
who are bilingual learn only Yiddish, so that the proportion of Russian to Yiddish- 
speaking is much less than among the Jews of Russia. 

There are probably not 100 genuine Russians, that is, Great Russians, in the city. 
There are, however, several hundred Ruthenians, perhaps about 500, who speak a Little 
Russian dialect. The Russian church of Chicago is made up largely of Ruthenians, 
and service was for a time held in Little Russian, now, however, in Great Russian. 


There are 


21 This embraces the speech of Servia, Bosnia, Herzego- 
yina, Montenegro, the Austrian province of Dalmatia, and 
the Hungarian provinces of Croatia and Slavonia. 
Throughout this territory is spoken a series of closely re- 
lated dialects, the divisions between which do not coincide 
with any political divisions. All these dialects are now 
represented by what is essentially the same literary lan- 
guage, though appearing in two forms—the Servian in the 


on South Slavie literary and political movements, but 
ean hardly be illustrated more picturesquely than by an 
incident related to me of three brothers from Ragusa, now 
living in South Chicago, who ‘‘ threw knives at each other 
because one said he was a Croatian, the other that he was 
a Servian, the third that he was a Dago.” 

In Bosnia, too, there is a Croatian as well as a Servian 
“party,” and the Austrian officials, to avoid offending 


east, written in the Cyrillic alphabet, and the Croatian in 
the west, with Agram as the center of literary activity, 
written in the Latin alphabet. But a divergent political 
history and religious differences (the Servians belong to 
the Greek Church, the Croatians to the Roman) have pre- 
vented any genuine feeling of unity, and, in spite of the 
dicta of their scholars and literary leaders, the Croatians 
and Servians regard themselves as distinct peoples, each 
with its own language. The Dalmatians for the most part 
are to be grouped with the Croatians, but in the extreme 
south there is a mixture of Croatian and Servian elements, 
further complicated by the Italian influence which has 
been strong in Dalmatia from the earliest period. The re- 
sulting conditions have been elaborately treated in works 


either, call the language neither Servian nor Croatian, but 
“the vernacular ™ or ‘*‘ Bosnian.” 

224 Croatian census, Popis Hrvata u Americi, pub- 
lished in Allegheny, furnishes carefully collected statistics 
for all the Croatian settlements in the country. It repre- 
sents an undertaking which might well be imitated by 
other nationalities. 

23 Besides these two and the two Chicago papers, they 
are: Napredak, Allegheny; Osa, New York; Hrvati wu 
Americi, Rankin, Pa. 

24 See footnote 21. 

2>The Silo and the Srbin, Pittsburg, Pa.; Serbska 
Straza, New York city; Sloboda, San Francisco; The Owl, 
Pueblo, Col. 


106 


Cart Daruine Buck 13 





In other parts of the country, too, the Russian language is represented mainly by 
the Russian Jews, so that New York, which contains by far the largest number of 
these, is the largest Russian-speaking city of the country. 

Aside from the Jews, the only considerable Russian colony is that of the Dou- 
khobors in North Dakota. 

Slovenian.—Slovenian, the Slavic language of the Austrian province of Carniola 
and parts of Carinthia, Styria, and the coast land, is spoken by about 1,500 persons, 
most of them from Carniola. 

The principal Slovenian colonies are in Cleveland, Ohio, Joliet, Ill., Pueblo, Col., 
Red Jacket, Mich., in each of which there are several thousand. There are also consider- 
able numbers in Pittsburg, Leadville, Col., and in several towns in Minnesota. 

There are six Slovenian papers.” 

Bulgarian.— Bulgarian is spoken by between 50 and 60 persons, about four-fifths 
of whom are from Macedonia. 

The next largest numbers are in Pittsburg and Philadelphia, there being about 
35 in each, and about 100 in the whole state of Pennsylvania. There are also between 
30 and 40 in Ohio and Massachusetts, about 25 in New York, about 15 in Maryland, 
New Jersey, Maine, Michigan, 10 in California, and still smaller numbers in several 
other states. In all there are in the country between 500 and 600, about four-fifths 
of whom are Macedonians, chiefly from the district of Monastir, who have come here 
within the last three or four years. Up to 1892 there were less than 100 Bulgarians 
in the country, and nearly all these were students or professional men from Bulgaria 
proper.” 

A small Bulgarian bi-monthly is published in Chicago, and has some 200 
subscribers. 

Wendish.—It is almost certain that among the immigrants from Germany there 
are at least some individuals from the Wendish region about Cottbus and Bautzen, but 
they are so thoroughly Germanized as to pass everywhere for Germans, and I have 
not been able to learn definitely of any Wendish-speaking persons. 

There is a colony in Serbin, Tex., where church service is still held in Wendish. 


BALTIC 


Lithwanian.— Lithuanian is spoken by over 10,000 persons.” The vast majority 
of them are from Russian territory, though there are also a few Prussian Lithuanians. 
There are two Lithuanian weeklies, the Lietuva and the Katalikas. 


26 Nova Damovina, Cleveland; Amerikanski Slovenec, 
Joliet; Glas Naroda, New York; Glasnik, Red Jacket; 
Mir, Pueblo; Moskito, Cleveland. 


27 Dr. Staneff, a Bulgarian physician of South Chicago, 
has taken unusual pains to furnish me with full and accu- 
rate information about the Bulgarians throughout the 
country. 


28 The editor of the Lietuva estimates 14,000, and Iam 
not sure that this is at all exaggerated. The figures of the 


school census were of little value at the time (see footnote 
6) and the number has been rapidly increasing since 
then. There are two very large Lithuanian Catholic con- 
gregations, not to speak of a small one in South Chicago, 
and the Lutherans, for whom a service is held in a German 
Lutheran church. During the past year one thousand 
tickets for transportation to Chicago, to be sent to relatives 
and friends in Lithuania, were sold in one office —that of 
the aforesaid editor, who to his editorial duties adds those 
of steamship agent and United States district postmaster. 


107 


14 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 





Pennsylvania has the largest Lithuanian population, followed by Illinois, New 
York, Massachusetts,and Connecticut. There are in all six Lithuanian papers.” 

Lettic.— There are about 300 Letts in the city, and also perhaps 200 Jews from 
Lettic territory who can speak Lettic. 

The number of Letts is about the same for Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, 
while there are some 250 in San Francisco, 100 in Cleveland, Ohio, 100 in Lincoln 
county, Wis., and smaller settlements in other places, making in all approximately 
2,000 in the country. 

A Lettie religious weekly, Amerikas Westnesis, is published in Boston.” 


ROMANCE 


Ttalian.—Italian is spoken by over 25,000 persons. 
60, are 26,043, those of the school census of 1898, 22,933. 

Three Italian papers, two weeklies and one monthly, are published here, L’Jtala, 
La Tribuna Italiana, and L’ America. 

By far the largest Italian colony in the country is in New York city, where there 
are over 200,000, and where ten of the thirty-five Italian papers in the country 
are published. 

French.—French is spoken by from 15,000 to 20,000 persons. The Census 
figures, Table 60, are 4,498 French, 8,206 French Canadians, to which would be 
added a portion of those enumerated under Belgium and Switzerland. On the basis 
of these figures one would judge the French-speaking population to be about 17,000." 

One French weekly is published here, Le Courier de ? Ouest. 

The largest number of immigrants from France is in New York city, but the French 
Canadians are most numerous in the New England manufacturing cities, Fall River, 
Lowell, Manchester, ete. Of some thirty-five French papers nearly half are 
published in the New England states (eight in Massachusetts), but there are five in 
California and five in Louisiana. 

Spanish.—Spanish is spoken by perhaps 1,000 persons—Spaniards, Mexicans, 
Central Americans, South Americans, and West Indians in about equal proportions. 
The Census figures for persons born in these countries (Table 35), and not including 
Cubans and Porto Ricans, amount to 641. 

By far the largest Spanish-speaking population is in Texas. The Mexican 
element is strong also in Arizona, New Mexico and California, while in Florida there 


The Census figures, Table 


29 Besides the two Chicago papers mentioned there are: 
Saule, Mahoney City, Pa.; Vienybe Lietuvniku, Plymouth, 
Pa.; Zvaigzde, Brooklyn, N. Y.; Dirva, a quarterly publi- 
cation, Shenandoah, Pa. 

30The editor, Rev. H. Rebane, is a Lutheran pastor 
who resides in Boston, but pays regular visits to the Lettie 
communities elsewhere. To him I am indebted for the in- 
formation given above. 


“ My colleague, Professor Ingres, tells me that the 


church officials on the basis of their parish lists estimate 
the French-speaking population at about 60,000, made up 
largely of French Canadians. Ihave already alluded to 
the well-known fact that many persons deny their foreign 
parentage and are enrolled as of native parentage. But it 
is difficult to believe that the French Canadians recorded 
in the Census represent less than one-fifth of the true num- 
ber. The discrepancy isso great that I have not ventured 
to accept these higher figures, though not denying the 
possibility of their correctness, 


108 


Cart Daruine Buck 15 





are large numbers from the West Indies. Apart from the Mexicans, New York has 
the largest number of Spanish-speaking persons. All of the fifty-odd Spanish papers 
of the country appear in the states named, there being twelve in New York city. 

Roumanian.— Roumanian is spoken by perhaps 2,000 Roumanian Jews. The 
Census gives only 287 as born in Roumania, but they have been arriving in larger num- 
bers within the last two years. Estimates of the number vary widely, some running 
as high as 4,000. The number given is hardly more than a guess. 

A large proportion of all the Roumanian Jews in the country is in New York 
city. Aside from the Jews, I have not learned of any considerable number of Rou- 
manians anywhere,” and the Roumanian language seems to be represented almost 
wholly by the Jews from Roumania, with some Gypsies who speak Roumanian. 

Portuguese.—Portuguese is spoken by only a few dozen persons. The Census 
gives 21 as born in Portugal. 

Most of the Portuguese population of the country is in Massachusetts and Cali- 
fornia, in each of which there are over 12,000 born in Portugal. The five Portuguese 
papers of the country appear in these states. 


CELTIC 


Trish.—Irish is spoken by upwards of 10,000 persons certainly, and probably by 
as many as 15,000. The first number would be within the 144 per cent. of the 
73,912 born in Ireland (Census, Table 35), 144 being the percentage of the popula- 
tion of Ireland which can speak Irish. But immigration is especially strong from 
those counties in which Irish is most spoken, so that the percentage of Irish speakers 
among the Irish-born of Chicago (and in general in this country) is without doubt 
somewhat larger. Moreover, the revival of interest in the Irish language, fostered by 
the Gaelic League, has had the result, unique™ in the history of our foreign population, 
that not a few adults have learned their native tongue for the first time in this country. 
There are also some of the second generation who learn Irish at home or in the classes 
of the Gaelic League. But this enthusiasm for the language, after all, affects but a 
small proportion of the Irish population, and it would not be safe to assume any very 
large additions to the number of those who spoke Irish when they came here. 

Neither here nor elsewhere, even in Ireland, so far as I am aware, is there any 
newspaper published entirely in Irish. But most of the papers devoted to Irish inter- 
ests print, occasionally at least, addresses, poems, stories, etc., in the native language. 

The number of Irish-speaking persons is, of course, everywhere proportionate to 
the total number of Irish, which is greatest in New York city, followed by Philadel- 
phia, Chicago, and Boston. In the whole country there are probably about one-quar- 


32 A young Roumanian from Bessarabia whom I met in anian or Slovakian here. And I now reeall that one of 
Chicago did not know of any other Roumanians in the city. the Lithuanian priests in Chicago, who preaches regularly 
33 Or almost unique. Professor Wiener tells me he has in Lithuanian, told me he learned it in this country. His 
met some Lithuanians and some Sloyakians who spoke father had spoken Lithuanian, but he himself only Polish 
only Polish or Hungarian before coming to this country, and Russian, 
but, joining their respective societies, have learned Lithu- 


109 


16 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 








ter of a million of Irish-speaking persons, which is more than a third of the number in 
Ireland. 

Welsh.—Welsh is probably spoken by about 2,000 persons, the total Welsh 
population here being 4,000 or 5,000. 

More than a third of all the Welsh in the country are in the mining regions of 
Pennsylvania, the states next in order being Ohio and New York. There are three 
Welsh papers, the most important being Y Drych, a weekly published at Utica, N. Y. 

Scotch Gaelic.—The Scotch Gaelic, closely allied to the Irish, is spoken by per- 
haps 500 persons. There are nearly 20,000 Scotch in the city, but, of course, only a 
small number from the parts of Scotland where Gaelic is still spoken. 

In Canada there are some pure Gaelic settlements, where church services are still 
held in Gaelic. One of these is in Gananoque, Ontario. 

Manx.—Manx, also closely related to Irish, is spoken by perhaps 100 persons. 
This is on the assumption that of the 400 or 500 Manxmen in the city, the proportion 
of Manx-speaking persons is about the same as on the Isle of Man. But it may be 
less, and a Manx informant has the idea that there are only a few dozen who can speak 
Manx. 

The principal Manx center is Cleveland, Ohio. Settlements in the neighborhood 
of the city were made as early as 1827, and there are said to be now in the suburbs 
and immediate vicinity as many as 8,000 of Manx birth or descent.“ There are also 
considerable numbers of Manxmen in New Orleans, San Francisco, Rochester, and 
Albany. 

Breton.—The Breton or Armorican, spoken in Brittany and allied more closely 
with the Welsh and the extinct Cornish than with the Irish, is represented by a few 
dozen of the immigrants from France. 

I have not learned of any distinctly Breton settlements in this country, and doubt 
if there are any. But wherever there are French immigrants in large numbers, there 
are certain to be some from Brittany, and it is safe to conclude, in the absence of more 
specific evidence, that the largest number of Breton-speaking persons is in New York 
city. 

GREEK 


Modern Greek.—Modern Greek is spoken by about 4,000, possibly by 5,000. 
The Census, Table 35, gives only 1,493, and the school census of 1898 only 1,644 of 
Greek birth. But the school census of 1896 gave 3,711, and since then the number 
is known to have increased.” 

Chicago has the largest Greek population of any city in the country, followed by 


34 Cleveland lawyer of Manx descent, who has kindly earlier Manx settlements with anything like such rapidity 
given me the above information, has the impression that as in the Isle of Man itself. 
most of the generation born in this country are, like him- 35The discrepancy is probably to be accounted for by 
self, bilingual, having learned Manx as the language of the _ the fact that at certain times a large proportion of the 
household. If this is true, it indicates that the proportion Greeks are at work out of the city. 
of those able to speak Manx has not diminished in our 


110 


CarL Darina Buck 17 





New York, Lowell, Boston, San Francisco, Philadelphia, Savannah, Pittsburg, Charles- 
ton, New Orleans, in the order named. 

There are two Greek newspapers, both published in New York, the ’AtAavtiés and 
the @epporvAa. 

ALBANIAN 

Albanian.— Albanian, representing an independent branch of Indo-European 
of which no other languages are extant, is spoken by perhaps one or two hundred of 
the immigrants from Greece. 

A large proportion of the Greeks come from the southern part of the Pelopon- 
nesus, where there are very few Albanians, while from Attica, Boeotia, and other 
parts where the Albanian element is strongest, the number of immigrants is much 
smaller. 

From Albania proper there are probably no representatives, nor, as far as I know, 
from the Albanian towns of southern Italy. 

In other parts of the country the distribution of the Albanian element will cor- 
respond roughly to that of the Greek element. 


ARMENIAN 


Armenian.—Armenian, which, like Albanian, is the sole representative of an 
independent branch of the Indo-European family, is spoken by some 125 persons. 

Except for New York city, with 2,500, most of the Armenians are in the New 
England cities. Worcester has 1,500, Boston 800, Providence 800, Lawrence 350, 
Lynn 300, ete. 

There are five Armenian papers, three of which are published in Boston, one in 
Cambridge, and one in Fresno, Calif.” 


INDO-IRANIAN 


Neither Persian nor any of the other modern Iranian languages is represented 
here, as far as I have been able to learn. Nor do I know of any Hindus living here 
at the present time. 

Gypsy.—The Indic branch, however, is not entirely unrepresented, since there are 
nearly always some Gypsies in the outskirts of the city or in the immediate vicinity. 
And, as is well known, the Gypsy language still retains a large element, which, in spite 
of the accretions from other languages, clearly betrays its origin in India. In the 
summer of 1901 there was here a large number of Gypsies recently arrived from Rou- 
mania and Bessarabia, who spoke Roumanian and Russian as well as Gypsy. But most 
of the Gypsies who frequent the city from year to year belong to a family which came 
to this country, after living for some time in Bavaria, from Croatia, and call them- 
selves Hungarian Gypsies. 


36The Hayrenik, the Gotschnag, and the Tzain Haireniatz, Boston; the Loyce, Cambridge; The Citizen, Fresno, 
California. 
111 


18 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIO CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 





FINNO-HUNGARIAN ” 


Hungarian.—The number of Hungarian-speaking persons is difficult to estimate 
even roughly. There are about 1,000 Magyars in South Chicago, Pullman, and the 
other manufacturing districts in the southern outskirts of the city. These, of course, 
are entirely Hungarian in speech. Nearly all the Hungarians in the city proper, of 
whom there are many thousands, are Jews, there being two Hungarian-Jewish churches. 
Some of these are as thoroughly Hungarian in speech and in sentiment as the Magyars 
themselves, but many, on the other hand, belong to our earliest class of immigrants 
from Hungary and left at a time when German influence was predominant, so that 
German rather than Hungarian is their mother-tongue, and their children, so far as 
they learned anything but English, acquired German, not Hungarian. As to the 
actual numbers of the Jews from Hungary, and their descendants, and the proportion 
which speak Hungarian, I have received the most divergent opinions. It is safe to say 
that Hungarian is spoken by 5,000, while some would place the number at several 
times this. 

Of the cities, New York has the largest Hungarian population, with Cleveland, O., 
second. Of the states, Pennsylvania stands first, followed by New York and Ohio. 
There are five Hungarian papers, three in New York and two in Cleveland.® 

Finnish.—Finnish is spoken by about 500 persons. The center of the Finnish 
population is in the Calumet mining regions of Michigan. Next to Michigan, with 
18,910 Finnish born, according to the Census, comes Minnesota,with about 10,000, fol- 
lowed by Massachusetts with about 5,000. 

There are fourteen Finnish papers, seven of them appearing in Michigan.” 

Esthonian.—There are said to be three Esthonian families in Chicago. New York 
and San Francisco have each about 150 Esths, and altogether in the country there are 
about 400.° An Esthonian religious paper, Amerika Hesti Postimees, is published 
in Boston by the same editor as the Lettic paper. 


SEMITIC 


Arabic.—Arabic is spoken by the Syrians, numbering between 300 and 500. In 
New York, which has the greatest number of Syrians, there are four papers published 
in Arabic. No account is taken of Hebrew, which, however familiar in Jewish serv- 
ices, is not actually a spoken language anywhere. 

For Yiddish see above, p. 9. 


37 While this is as definite a language family as Indo- 
European or Semitic, its relationship with other families 
often grouped with it under the head of “ Ural-Altaic” is 
of a less decisive character. Owing to this, and also to the 
fact that outside of Finno-Hungarian the Turkish is the 


39The Kristillisia Sanomia, Mahatma, Siirtolainen, 
Heligtens Vag, Brooklyn; Naisten Lehti, Suometar, Uutiset, 
Todituslten Joukko, Calumet, Mich.; Faimen Sanomat, 
Raiitiuslehti, Hancock, Mich.; Kalava, Manistee, Mich.; 
Uusi Kotimaa, New York Mills, Minn. ; Amerikan Sanomat, 


only representative here of the Ural-Altaic, I have ignored 
this more general grouping, and simply mentioned Turkish 
below, under ‘‘ other languages.”’ 

28 Szabadsig and Magyar Hirmondd, Cleveland; Neps- 
zava, Amerikai Nemzetor, and Pitly-Palatty, New York. 


Asterbill Harbor, Ohio; Totwus, Fitchburg, Mass, 

40 Even the Livonians of the northern extremity of 
Courland, relies of another Finnish people from which 
Livonia takes its name and numbering in 1881 only 3,652 in 
all, are represented by a few families in New York city. 


112 


Cart DARLING Buck 19 





OTHER LANGUAGES 


Chinese.—Chinese is spoken by between one and two thousand persons. 

As is well known, the Chinese element is strongest in California and the other 
Pacific states. In the East the greatest number is in New York. 

There are two Chinese papers, one in New York, the other in San Francisco. 

Japanese.—Japanese is spoken by less than a hundred persons. The Census gives 
80 as born in Japan. 

The Japanese are most numerous in California, Washington, Oregon, Montana, and 
Idaho in the order named. 

Turkish.—As far as I can learn, there are no Turks in the city at present, though 
one or two remained stranded here for some years after the exposition of 1893. But 
the Turkish language is not unrepresented, for the reason that nearly all the 
Armenians, that is, all the male adults, speak Turkish in addition to their own lan- 
guage. 

There are probably very few Turks anywhere in the country, the language being 
represented mainly by the Armenian population, which is almost exclusively from 
Turkish Armenia. 

Basque.—Basque is represented by a few individuals only. I have not learned of 
any considerable number of Basques anywhere in the country." 

The native Indian languages are almost wholly unrepresented. There is a resi- 
dent physician who is a full-blooded Sioux, and occasionally a party of Indians is 
brought here for a few months for commercial purposes. But practically the Indian 
languages play no part in the linguistic conditions of the city. 

I have not learned of any representations of the Malay-Polynesian group of 





languages, though it is quite possible that there are a few Hawaiians or Samoans 
engaged in business. The Census gives 46 as born in the Pacific Islands, but these are 
probably of American parentage. 


SUMMARY 


The most notable characteristic of Chicago’s foreign population is the strength of 
the Scandinavian and Slavic elements. No other city in the country contains any- 
thing like as many representatives of these groups. The Slavs number over a quarter 
of a million, and of the large divisions which we have made above, Slavic comes next 
to Germanic, a place which would be occupied by Romance in New York, Philadelphia, 
or Boston. Taking the languages without regard to the classification previously fol- 
lowed, the following are those of which Chicago furnishes the largest representation of 
any city in the country: Polish, Swedish, Bohemian, Norwegian, Dutch, Danish, 
Croatian, Slovakian, Lithuanian, and Greek. 


41 T have talked with a Basque in Boston who came to elsewhere in the country, from which I infer that there are 
this country some forty years ago with five others from the no Basque colonies of any size, though there are probably 
same town, all now dead. He has no knowledge of Basques _a few individuals of this race in most of the larger cities. 


113 


20 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 








Tn the following table the languages are given in the order of their numerical 
strength in Chicago, so far as this can be determined. As explained before, the num- 
bers are only approximate. The asterisks indicate those languages, already named, 
which are spoken by greater numbers in Chicago than in other cities of this country: 


about 

German - - = - - : 500,000 
* Polish - - - - - - 125,000 
* Swedish - - - - - 100,000 
* Bohemian - - - - - 90,000 
* Norwegian - - - - - 50,000 
Yiddish - - - - - - 50,000 
* Dutch - - - - - - 35,000 
Italian - - - - - - 25,000 
* Danish - - - - - 20,000 
French - - = - - - 15,000 
Trish - - - - - - 10,000 
* Croatian and Servian-— - - - 10,000 
* Slovakian - - - : - 10,000 
* Lithuanian = - = - = - 10,000 
Russian - - - - - - 7,000 
Hungarian - - - - - 5,000 
* Greek - - - - - - 4,000 
Frisian - - - - - 

Roumanian = - - = = 2 1,000 
Welsh - - - - - to 
Slovenian - - - = = 2,000 
Flemish = = = 


Chinese 
Spanish - 
Finnish 
Scotch Gaelic 
Lettie - 
Arabie - 
Armenian 
Manx 
Icelandic 
Albanian 
Bulgarian - 
Turkish - 
Japanese 
Portuguese 
Breton - 
Esthonian 
Basque 
Gypsy - 


114 


} 


about 


ii 1,000 


500 


250 


TWO TWICE-TOLD TALES 





~ 





TWO TWICE-TOLD TALES 
J. J. MEYER 


Benrey, in his Pafcatantra, Vol. I, p. 442, mentions the story of Kinnara as a 
parallel to a certain far-spread Hindu ‘Tale of the Faithless Wife.” ' The magnificent 
collection of the Pali Jataka was not accessible to the great pioneer. We have it now 
—six beautiful volumes, edited by the master hand of Fausbodll. When I read these 
stories for the first time some years ago I gladly hailed as an old acquaintance also the 
tale of Queen Kinnara in the Kundlajdtaka. For this is the oldest form known at 
present of Ariosto’s excellent novella of Astollo and Giocondo (Orlando Furioso, canto 
28). After a second perusal of the Jataka book some time later, I concluded to call 
the attention of others to the matter. But just when I wanted to publish the following 
translation and notes I saw in the Rassegna bibliografica della letteratura italiana of 
February, 1899, a notice to the effect that Professor P. E. Pavolini had shown in the 
eleventh volume of the Giornale della Societa Asiatica a striking similarity between 
Ariosto’s novella and the Kundlajataka. I see now that Professor Pavolini only 
gives a brief abstract of the Jdataka, and that the remarks he offers are different from 
mine. So there seems to be room for the following pages. 

The tale of Kinnara is embodied in the Kundlajataka (The Jataka, ed. Fausbéll, 
Vol. V, pp. 437 ff.). Thus we are told: 


In times gone by there was in Benares a king by the name of Kandari, who was most 
handsome in face and form. Daily his ministers brought a thousand boxes of perfumes to him, 
anointed his palace with them, split the perfume boxes, and with this scented wood cooked his 
meals. His wife was very beautiful and named Kinnara. His domestic chaplain, Pancalacanda 
by name, was endowed with wisdom and of the same age with the king. Now, at the king’s 
castle, inside the wall, there had grown up a jambu tree [rose apple tree], the branches of which 
hung over the top of the wall, and in the shade of this tree there dwelt a cripple loathsome 
and ugly of figure. 

One day when Queen Kinnara was looking through the window she saw him and fell in 
love with him. After she had bestowed her favors on the king the next night, and he had fallen 
asleep, she softly rose, put most delicious food of different kinds into a golden vessel, and, 
conveying this in the folds of her dress, she descended by means of a rope made of cloth? down 
through the window [evidently first alighting upon the top of the wall], and mounted the rose 
apple tree. Then she descended by means of the branches, fed the cripple, sinned (with him), 
and then again ascended to the palace in the way she had come. With perfumes she shampooed 
her body and laid herself down with the king. In this manner she continually sinned with that 
man and the king knew it not. 

One day he passed around the city in solemn procession. Entering his palace he saw the 


1 Cf. the article of F. L. Putub in the fourth volume of (1898, pp. 165-73) ; also J. J. Meyer, Dandins Dagakumara- 
the Giornale della Societa Asiatica italiana (18%, pp. 129-64), caritam (Leipzig, 1902), pp. 87-96. 
and P. E, PAvoLInt in the eleventh volume of that journal 2Or perhaps rather: ‘‘ of her outer garment.” 


117 


4 Two TwicE-Toup TALES 





cripple, who presented a most pitiful appearance,® lying in the shade of the rose apple tree, and 
he said to his domestic chaplain: “See this specter of a man?” “Yes, my Lord.” “Now, I 
wonder, friend, whether a woman would approach such a disgusting fellow in amorous passion ?” 
When the cripple heard these words he was filled with vanity and thought: “ What says this 
king? He is not aware, it seems, that his own queen comes to me.” Saluting the tree respect- 
fully by raising his joined hands to his forehead, he said: “ Hear thou, O lordly deity who wast 
born in this rose apple tree; save thee nobody knows this matter.” 

When the domestic chaplain saw him do this he reflected: “Surely the king’s queen consort 
comes by way of the rose apple tree and sins with him.” [Should this miraculous insight 
surprise anybody, let him remember that this domestic chaplain was the Buddha himself in one 
of his anterior births.] And he asked the king: “O, great king, how is the touch of the queen’s 
body in the night time?” 

“T observed nothing else, friend; but in the middle watch of the night her body is cold.” 

“Then, my lord, to say nothing of other women—your consort, Queen Kinnara, sins with him.” 

“What are you talking about, friend? How should such a lady, endowed with the highest 
charms, amuse herself with such a most hideous fellow?” 

“Try her then, my lord.” 

“ All right,” he said, and the following night, having supped, he retired with the queen and 
thinking, “I will try her,” he feigned to have fallen asleep when the time came that he usually 
fell asleep. She rose and did as she was wont. The king followed her and stood still below 
the rose apple tree. 

The cripple was angry with the queen and he boxed her ears,‘ saying: “ You loitered too long 
in coming.” Then she pleaded: “Do not be angry, my lord; I watched for the king to fall 
asleep.” And she was like a wife in his house. 

But when he struck her one of her ear-rings, shaped like a lion’s face (or mouth), bounded 
away from her ear and dropped at the feet of the king. The king thought, “This is enough to 
serve my purpose,” took the ring, and returned. After having transgressed with the cripple, she 
also returned in her former manner and commenced to lie with the king. He pushed her back 
and on the next day commanded: “The Queen Kinnara shall come to me bedecked with all the 
ornaments I gave her.” She said, “My lion-ring is at the goldsmith’s,” and did not come. 
When she had been sent for again she came with one ring. The king asked: “ Where is your 
ring?” “At the goldsmith’s.” He called the goldsmith. “ Why do you not give her her ring?” 
he said. “I did not receive it, my lord.” The king got angry and said: “ You wicked pariah 
woman, your goldsmith must look like me.” And throwing the ring down before her he said to 
the domestic chaplain: “ You spoke the truth, friend; go and have her head cut off.” 

He (the chaplain) put her away somewhere in the king’s house, drew near the king and 
said: “ My lord, be not angry with Queen Kinnara; all women are that way. And if you wish to 
see the bad nature of women, I will show you their wickedness and many wiles. Come, we will 
travel incognito through the land.” 

The king assented, intrusted the kingdom to his mother, and set forth with him upon their 
journey. When they came to a cross-road [or, after they had traveled twelve miles], they sat 
down at the highway. 


3The dictionaries, both Sanskrit and Pali, give only 
“compassion” for karunya (karunna). But we can hardly 
translate ‘“ who roused the deepest compassion.” 


“ 


4Literally ‘struck her on the orifice of her ears with 
his hand” — hatthena kannasahkhaliyam pahari; cf. 
Sumangala-vilasini, p. 311, last line, and p. 312, first line: 
bhikkhum kannasahkhaliyam paharitva. Kannasahkhali 
is the Skt. karnacgashkuli. 


5 The Pali text has here the reading tesam yojanamag- 
gam gantvad mahimagge nisinnanam, which is clearly 
wrong. Two emendations easily suggest themselves. We 
might read tesam samyojanamaggam gantva, ete., i. e€., 
“when they had come toa cross-way.”’ One of the two sam 
immediately following each other would very naturally 
have dropped out through the negligence of the seribe. 
But gantvad (instead of patva) would then be a little 


118 


J. J. MEYER 5 





A landed proprietor who was celebrating his son’s wedding came along with great pomp 


and retinue and the girl (the bride) seated in a palankin. 
“Tf you wish, it is possible to make this girl sin with you.” 


he said : 


When the domestic chaplain saw this 


“How can you say so? Her retinue is too great for that, friend.” 


“See then, my lord,” said the chaplain. 


He stepped forward, made a tent not far from the road, and put the king into the tent, he 
himself sitting down at the wayside weeping. Then the landed proprietor, seeing him, inquired : 


“Why do you weep, my good sir?” 


“My wife is very big with child; I started upon the way to take her to the home of her kin. 
But on the highway her throes came upon her; she is laboring within the tent, no woman is at 


her side and I cannot go there. 
“You must get a woman. 


I do not know what will become of it.” 
Don’t weep; there are many women; one will go. 


” 


“Then this girl here shall go, and it will be a lucky omen also for her.” 
The man thought: “He speaks the truth; it will be an omen betokening luck to her too; 


’ 


she will increase in sons and daughters;’ 
fell in love with him, and sinned with him. 


afid he sent her. 
The king gave her the seal-ring from his finger. 


She entered there, saw the king, 


When she had finished and returned from out of the tent, they asked her: “ What has she 


borne?” She answered: “A son of golden hue.’ 


on with his train. 


The landed proprietor took her and journeyed 


The chaplain also went to the king and said: “You see, my lord, even a young girl is so 


wicked, far more the other women. 
“Yes, the seal-ring from my finger.” 
“T will not allow her that.” 


But have you given her anything? ” 


He rapidly strode on, caught up with the palankin? and when they asked: “ What is the 
matter?” he answered: “She took the seal-ring with her that had been placed under my wife’s 


pillow. Give me the seal-ring, my good lady. 


She wounded the brahman’s hand with her 


finger-nails when she gave him the ring and said: “Take it, you rascal.” 
Thus by various stratagems the brahman brought it about that the king could see (with his 


strange. Or we might read tesam yojanamaggam gantva, 
etc., 7. e., ‘after they had gone a yojana’s way.” Anobjec- 
tion to that reading would be this that twelve miles was 
too long a journey to find the first pliant woman. That 
were not in keeping with the spirit of the fairy tale, 
especially as the king was “‘very fair of form and figure.” 
But although Childers gives a yojana as twelve miles, that 
does not seem to be so very correct. The statements 
regarding the yojana differ greatly. OrsTERLEY, Baital 
Pacchisi, p. 48, says a yojana=about nine miles; STEIN, 
Rajatarangint (transl.), Vol. VII, p. 393, about six miles; 
CrookE, Popular Religion and Folklore of Northern 
India, p. 232, ten miles; MONTER WILLIAMS, sub voce, 
informs us: ‘*Sometimes regarded asequal to four or five 
«English miles, but more correctly= four krogas or about 
nine miles; according to other calculations=two and 
one-half English miles, and according to some= eight 
krogas.” Professor Lanman writes me: ‘It is 60 yojanas 
from Kapilavatthu to Rajagaha (Jat. I, p. 85,1. 31), that is 
about 150 miles, perhaps—that gives only 2 or 3 miles for a 
yojanana.’’ Cunningham takes the yojana as seven miles. 
Mahavagga, VII, 1, mentions six yojanas as the distance 
between Saketa and Savatthi; according to the Fa-Hian, 
it was eight yojanas. Counting the yojana as seven miles, 
the Chinese traveler’s statement would give us fifty-six 
miles, which is correct according to CUNNINGHAM (Ancient 
Geography of India, Vol.I, p. 409), who accepts the common 


identification of Saketa with Ayodhya, adducing conclu- 
sive proofs for this view, and identifies Savatthi with Sewet 
and the modern Sahet-Mahet. Whatever explanation we 
may adopt to reconcile the Mahavagga with these state- 
ments, it is clear that the yojana of the Mahavagga 
amounts to vastly more than two or three miles, unless we 
reject Cunningham’s identification, which seems to rest on 
a very solid basis, or assume that another Saketa is meant, 
a very improbable expedient. On the other hand, in 
Sutta 89 of the Majjhima-Nikaya King Pasenadi looks at 
the park of Nangaraka. There the thought of visiting 
Buddha enters his mind. But the Master is sojourning in 
Metalumpa. The kingis told that the distance between the 
two places is not great, only three yojanas, and that one 
could ride to Metalumpa during the rest of the day 
(divasavasesena). The king’s charioteer actually takes his 
lord there in time. Sucha thing would have been impos- 
sible, it seems, if a yojana were between twelve and seven 
miles. A distance of about eight miles in all appears to be 
quite enough for the “ rest of the day,” the roads in ancient 
India not being of the ideal kind. Perhaps the yojana 
(literally ‘“‘a distance traversed in one harnessing or with- 
out unyoking’’) was just as indefinite in old India as 
now is the term ‘“‘mile” which has to be qualified by 
“English,” ‘‘German,” “ geographical,”’ etc., in order to be 
correctly understood. 
6 Perhaps, rather, “stopped the palankin.” 


119 


6 Two Twicre-ToLtp TALES 





own eyes) many other licentious women, and he said: “This is enough for this place, let us go 
elsewhere, my lord.” 

The king roamed through all Jambudyipa [lit.,“the island of the rose apple tree,” 7. e., 
India], and then he declared: “All women (outside of Jambudvipa) will be the same way. 
What of them! Let us return.” So they went back to Benares. 

The chaplain pleaded with the king: “Such, O great king, are all women, of such a 
bad quality is their nature; pardon Queen Kinnara.” He pardoned her and expelled her 
from his court; and as he had deprived her of her station he chose another queen consort. 
And the cripple he caused to be driven away, and the branch of the rose apple tree (that hung 
over the top of the wall) he had cut down. 


It will be seen at a glance that this old Buddhist version of the story is very 
interesting in many respects. A careful comparison with the Arabian and Italian tales 
points to several things. I mention only a few. 

The story of Shah Zaman (Shahseman) or of Giocondo being cured of his heart- 
ache by seeing the king’s wife doing the same thing as his own spouse is here missing. 
But that is of no importance at all. The story of ‘‘The Lady in the Box,” which 
forms a separate Jataka in the Pali collection, we see in the Arabian Nights 
woven into the introductory story, with which originally it had no connection at all. 
A multitude of similar cases might be pointed out. These productions of the people’s 
fancy grow not only from within, but also from without. The different versions drop the 
one incident and add another, either by spontaneous growth or more frequently by 
appropriating another story or part of another story. This story of “The Lady in 
the Box” must serve, in the Arabian Nights, the same purpose as the king’s salutary 
ramble through various countries in the Buddhistic tale and in the Orlando Furioso. 

The Arab story-teller could not use this portion. The old Hindu looks upon the 
frailty of the fair sex rather with the sadly smiling eye of the philosopher. And the 
numerous angry invectives against women in Hindu literature notwithstanding, we 
even meet a multitude of stories where the tricks which amorous women play their 
relatives, and especially their husbands, are described with the same inward chuckle 
as in the “laughing tales” of Boccaccio, Bandello, and others. The Muhammedan 
spirit is severer and fiercer. Shahryar (Sheherban) puts to death his wife and a host 
of other women (1,095, if there was no leap year among those three years) ; the king 
of Benares spares his guilty spouse upon the intercession of his chaplain. And then, 
just think of a Muhammedan ruler roving through the land and introducing himself 
by stealth into as many harems as possible in order to learn by experience that no 
woman is true and chaste if she can help it! 

Another consideration is this; Adhering to the original version, the Arabian 
collection could hardly have introduced Sheherezade, who is so pre-eminently neces- 
sary. The Arabian adaptations of these old tales are often better than the more original 
forms, but the otherwise excellent story of ‘The Lady in the Box” seems to me here 
a rather inferior substitute for the way in which the king is made to see the depravity 
of all womankind in our Pali Jataka and in Ariosto’s novella. We must concede that 

120 


J. Meyer 7 





this king Shahryar is drawn with a masterhand, and the spirit of the fairy-tale, 
especially the Arabian fairy-tale, is manifested in a sparkling manner. This poor 
lady has been cruelly torn away from her bridegroom by the Jinni; ladies do not like 
to be put into boxes of this kind, not even in the countries of the harem; such treat- 
ment would be sufficient to raise the spirit of deviltry in a Penelope; still our sultan 
Shahryar, like a true eastern despot, infers from this exceptional case that all women act 
like the one now before him, which is a flat contradiction of his previous attitude toward 
the question. He is the type of the stupid, cruel prince so common in eastern tales. 

By the way, this peculiarity of the Nights that they usually — Harun ar Rashid, 
of course, excepted —depict princes as rather dull, hasty, bloody, etc., whereas their 
ministers are models of insight, prudence, energy, and other good qualities, is doubt- 
less in a great measure due to the fact that the Nights go back to the Jataka as 
their principal fountain-head. In the Jataka Boddhisatta (the later Buddha) is again 
and again born as a king’s minister, and as such restrains and instructs his impetuous 
and often weak-minded lord. Now, we know that in the Orient ministers of state are, 
as a rule, no better, and even worse, than their masters, or slaves, 7. ¢., the princes. So 
the Nights can in this respect hardly have copied life. Still, the noble family of the 
Barmecides, for instance, may have contributed colors to this bright, ideal picture of 
the vezir. But, in spite of many excellent traits in the Arabian tale, the best, most 
essential, and most extraordinary part of the whole story, 7. e., the king’s peculiar 
exploratory tour, together with a few other things in our Jataka, go to make up a bet- 
ter narrative than the Muhammedan adaptation. 

That the story when it became known to the Muhammedans contained this journey of 
the king through various countries and his amorous adventures with a multitude of women 
is also clearly shown by the manner in which the substitute for this portion is introduced. 
When Shahryar with his own eyes had seen his queen in the loving embrace of the 
negro Said, he said, according to Burton’s literal translation of the Arabian Nights: 

“Let us up as we are and depart forthright hence, for we have no concern with kingship, 
and let us overwander Allah’s earth, worshiping the Almighty till we find some one to whom 
the like calamity hath happened; and if we find none then will death be more welcome to us 
than life.’ So the two brothers issued from a second private postern of the palace; and they 


never stinted wayfaring by day and by night, until they reached a tree a-middle of a meadow— 
hard by a spring of sweet water on the shore of the sea. 


Then happens the story of “The Lady in the Box” and their immediate return 
home. The words quoted seem to indicate beyond doubt that the tale when the 
Muhammedans borrowed it described a far more extensive and very different journey 
of the two. Why should they make so much ado, give up the kingdom, set out upon 
the way to “ overwander Allah’s earth” simply and exclusively in order to find a single 
and solitary woman who would not be loyal to her husband or lover? It is true, our 
king Shahryar is no miracle of intelligence, and the way in which he is stupefied by 
his wife’s colored liaison renders him very naive and amusing. Still he has just now 

121 


8 Two Twicr-ToLp TALES 





seen eleyen women follow their lewd desires; his brother’s wife added makes twelve; 
he is an oriental, a Muhammedan, and as such cannot help but have imbibed a some- 
what realistic philosophy in puncto foeminarum. So this whole portion is simply 
ridiculous, and the words quoted above and the things that came to pass thereupon 
can be explained only by the fact that the Muhammedans found these words, although 
quite different in some respects, in the story and transplanted them into their own 
version, the final development of which renders them so utterly incongruous, to say 
nothing of other blemishes. 

So the outcome seems to be this: The theory that Ariosto has taken over the 
introductory story from the Arabian Nights is untenable. But we see everywhere 
how very tenacious certain incidents and even phrases are in these tales of the people, 
their marked pliability and even Proteus-like transformations in some respects not- 
withstanding. It were possible, therefore, that Ariosto nevertheless got the story 
through the instrumentality of the Arabs. A version conforming more to the original 
tale and independent of the introduction to the Nights might still have been current 
among the Arabs at that time. But this is not very probable. We know that the 
manuscripts of the celebrated Arabian collection differ in a most astonishing manner. 
But the introduction— together with a number of other tales—is the same every- 
where, as far as matter is concerned, and even the wording varies here not essentially. 
“The Introduction (with a single incidental story ‘The Bull and the Ass’)... . 
may be placed in our tenth century,’ says Burton in his translation (Vol. X, p. 93). 
His opinion is certainly entitled to respect. All Arabists, I think, agree that the 
introduction is one of the oldest parts. Now, it seems not very plausible that another 
version should have survived among the Arabs down to Ariosto’s time side by side 
with its all-powerful rival in the Nights. I would rather incline to the opinion that 
the story was brought to Italy from Russia. We know that intercourse between these 
two countries was quite lively at that time. But as I cannot show up the Slavic link, 
I must give this as a mere, though very probable, supposition. 


Like the other stories of the introduction to the Arabian Nights, the one most 
important of them all for the collection is of Hindu origin; the Sheherezade, most 
famous and typical of Arabian girls, is found in the tales of the Jainas, an old reli- 
gious sect of India. Jacobi, in his well-known book Ausgewdhlte Hrzdhlungen in 
Maharashtri (1886) has published the Prakrit text of the story, and many a reader 
of this valuable volume must have recognized the identity. But, so far as I know, 
nobody has yet considered it worth while to speak about the matter. So I subjoin an 
almost literal translation. The story is found pp. 49 ff. It is taken from a com- 
mentary of Devendra which was finished in 1073 A. D.’ Devendra himself calls his 
work an epitome of a book of Gantyacarya.* The tale runs thus: 


7 JAcoBl gives Samvat 1179, 7. e., 1122-23 A.D. But this 8Of him PAVOLINT (in his article, ‘‘ Vicende del tipo di 
mistake has been corrected by LEUMANN, “ Die Legende Maladeva,” Giornale della Societa Asiatica italiana, Vol. 
von Citta und Sambhuta,”’ Wiener Zeitschrift fir die IX, p. 178) says: ** verosimilmente di poco posteriore alla 
Kunde des Morgenlandes, Vol. V, p. 112. redazione definitivo del canone dei jaina (454 d. C.).” 


122 


J. J. MEYER 9 





There is here in India a city named Khiipaitthiyam. Jiyasatti was king there. Once 
the king commenced a picture-gallery and handed it over to the guild of painters in equal por- 
tions [7. ¢., assigned the head of every family — professions being hereditary in India—an 
equal share of the work to be done]. Many painters painted. Also an old painter, Cittangaa 
by name, painted. A long time passed. And his young daughter, Kanayamafijari by name, 
brought him his meals. One day she was on her way to her father with his dinner in her 
hands, when a horseman came along the king’s highway, that was crowded with people, on his 
horse, making it run at full speed. And she fled in fear. Then after he had rushed by she 
went to her father. When Cittangaa saw that his meal had come, he went to ease nature. To 
while away time Kanayamanjari painted there in colors, on the payed floor, a peacock’s feather 
entirely true to nature. 

In the meanwhile King Jiyasattt came to the picture-gallery. Looking at the paintings 
he saw the peacock’s feather on the paved floor, and thinking, “It’s beautiful,” he stretched out 
his hand to pick it wp. He broke his nails, which were like pearl-oyster shells. Abashed he 
looked into space. 

Kanayamafjari said with a laugh: “ While I reflected, ‘A chair doesn’t stand on three 
legs,’ and sought the fourth foolish man, I have now found you as the fourth leg.” 

The king said: “ How is that? Tell me the whole matter as it is.” 

She said laughing: “ While I brought my father his meal a man rode a horse in hot haste 
on the king’s highway. He had not a bit of pity, for old people, children, women, and all other 
weak people that passed along were trampled down. Therefore this horseman, being an arrant 
fool, is the chair’s first leg. The second leg is the king, by whom the picture-gallery has been 
assigned to the painters in equal shares. In the individual families there are many painters. 
My father is, firstly, without a son; secondly, an old man; thirdly, poor. But although he is 
such, an equal portion (of the work) has been set down for him (which he cannot do under the 
circumstances). The third leg is my father here, because while painting at this picture-gallery 
he has spent what he had earned before; now I bring him any food I get, and when it has 
come — he goes to ease nature! What a dull man he is!”’® 

The king said: “ Why am I the fourth leg?” 

The other said: “ Now, anyone knows at once: ‘How should a peacock’s feather come 
here indeed!’ If it [the feather] had been brought here in some way or other, even then one 
would perceive it by the eye at once.” '° 

The king said : “I am really a fool and as such the fourth leg of the chair.” Hearing how 
(cleverly) she put her words together and seeing the loveliness of her body, he became enamored 
of her. But when Kanayamanjari had given her father to eat she went home. 

By mouth of Sugutta, his prime minister, the king asked Cittangaa for Kanayamanjari. 
He said : “ We are poor. How could we celebrate the marriage and pay the king due honor!” 

This was told the king. He had Cittangaa’s house filled with money, grain, and gold. 
On an auspicious lunar-day, in an auspicious hour, Kanayamanjari was married (by the king) 
in great splendor. A palace and a great multitude of female slaves were bestowed on her. 

Now the king had many queens; every one (of them) entered the king’s sleeping apart- 
ment on the night when her turn came. And on that day the order was given that it was 


9 Styala, Sanskrit, ¢itala, ‘cold,’ seems to be used had thought for a moment that the feather had been 
just as jada for “cold, torpid, senseless, stupid,’’ in San- there, he would have rectified the mistake right away (7. 
skrit. e., perceived that it was no real feather). Or: Even if the 

10Or “by his intelligence.” The literal translation feather had been brought there, one (7. e., people) would 
would be: “It might have been brought here insome way have seen it right away (and picked it un, of course, not 
or other [so one might object]. Even then one would per- leaving it till the king came) 
ceive it,” ete. The sense may be: Eyen if a man of sense 


10 Two TwicE-ToLtp TALES 





Kanayamanjari’s turn. Bedecked and adorned she went, together with her slave-girl Mayaniya, 
and sat down upon a seat. 

In the meanwhile the king came. She rose to greet him and performed the other acts of 
politeness and modesty. The king lay down on the bed. 

Before this time already Kanayamanjari had said to Mayaniya: “ When the king has lain 
down you must ask me for a story in a way that the king hears it.” Therefore Mayaniya said 
at this appropriate moment: “ Mistress, tell me a story while the king tarries (with us here).” 
The other said: “The king must first sleep soundly, then I will tell one.” 


The king thought: “ Now, what kind of a story will she tell? I too will hear it.” So he 
pretended to be asleep. Mayaniya said: “Mistress, the king is asleep; tell the story.” 
The other said: “ Listen! There was in a city Vasantaura a merchant Varuna. He hada 


chapel built of one hand in size that was made all of one block. Into this he put a certain idol 
of four hands.” Mayaniya said: “ Mistress, how could there be room for an idol of four hands 
in a chapel of one hand in size?” The other said: “I am sleepy now; tomorrow I shall tell.” 
“Thus let it be,” said Mayaniya, who went out and went home. The king’s curiosity was roused 
and he thought: “ What kind of thing is this?” She (Kanayamanjar1) also lay down to sleep. 

When on the second day again the order was given that it was her turn, she was addressed 
in the same way by Mayaniya: “ Mistress, tell that half-told tale (to the end).” The other said: 
“Friend, that god is the Four-Armed One," but this is not the size of his body [7. e., what I 
said does not refer to the size of his body].” Thus far goes the story. 

Mayaniya said: “Tell me another.” 

Kanayamanjari said: “Friend, there is a great forest. In it there stands a great red 
asoka tree with outspread boughs and branches. And it has no shade.” 

Mayaniya said: “ How could such an excellent tree have no shade?” 

She said: “Tomorrow I'll tell; now I am overcome by sleep.” 

The third day again, out of curiosity, sve was summoned. In the same manner she was 
questioned by Mayaniya. She explained: “That tree’s shade is below it.” ” 

Asked for another story, she narrated: “In a certain place there was a village magistrate. 
He hadacamel. And this roamed about at will. One day when it roamed about it saw a 
babbula tree abounding in leaves, blossoms, and fruit. And toward that it stretched out its 
neck and could not reach it. And for the tree’s sake it harassed itself a very long time. Then 
it stretched out its neck still a great deal more in all four directions. When it could not reach 
(the tree) in any way, it was seized by anger. Therefore itedischarged its urine and dung on the 
tree.” 

Mayaniya said: ‘“ How could it discharge its urine and dung on the tree which it could 
not even reach with its mouth?” 

The other said ; “ Tomorrow Ill tell.” 

In the same manner she declared on the following day: “That babbula tree was down in 
a ‘blind’ well,!® therefore the camel could not eat of it.” 

In this way Kanayamanjari befooled the king with such interesting stories for six months. 


11 Vishnu, who is represented with four arms and 
hands. 


be taken more literally. The shining water in the well is 
its pupil of the eye (Augenstern). Cf. the interesting, 


12 Therefore it has no shade, isnot protected by shade; 
whereas Mayaniya (and the king) took the painter’s 
daughter to mean that the tree cast no shade, 

13 Literally, ‘in the middle of a blind well-pit.” A 
well dried up, overgrown with plants, and not used is 
meant. The metaphor may be the same as in the German, 
blindes Fenster, blinde Thiire; or the term may refer to the 
fact that such a well is hidden from view; or the word may 


oft-recurring passage, Majjhima-Nikaya, Vol. I, p.80, where 
we have udakataraka, Wasserstern = Wasserspiegel (of a 
well). 

14The Sanskrit version here adds six other stories, all 
of asimilar nature. Three of them are well-known tales 
(Nos. 5,6, 7). As they are neither in the Maharashtri text 
nor affect the matter in hand, I pass them by. i 


124 


J. J. MEYER 11 





Then he had become exceedingly enamored of her. Exclusively devoted to the pleasure of 
love with her alone, he passed the time. 

Then her fellow-wives became enraged against her, sought for weak points in her, and 
conferred together: “ She has bewitched the king by witcheraft, so that he has abandoned even 
his queens who were born in the highest families; in his passion for this artisan’s daughter he 
considers neither excellences nor faults, pays no attention to the affairs of the kingdom; cares 
not that his wealth is being ruined by her juggler’s tricks.” 

But Kanayamanjari, day by day, entered one of the chambers in her palace at noon-time, 
all alone, cast off the garments and the finery that belonged to the king [7. e., that the king had 
given her], and put on the ragged dress and the finery made of tin and lead that she had got 
from her father. And she admonished her own soul: “ Do not be proud, O soul, of (this) 
wealth, do not become conceited, forget not thyself! The king’s is this wealth, thine are these 
clothes all beaten to pieces with the stick’ and this finery. So be of a calm mind, because for 
a long time thou didst not enjoy such splendor. Else the king might take thee by the neck 
and put thee out.” 

Observing these her doings day by day, her fellow-wives said to the king: “Although you 
are destitute of love for us, nevertheless we will ward off misfortune from you; for: Woman’s 
deity is her husband, This woman here, who is your sweetheart, pronounces some incantation 
or evil spell. Being bewitched by her, you do not notice this mischief.” 

The king said: “ How is that?” 

They said: “At noon-time she goes into a chamber, shuts the door, and stands there 
mumbling something by herself, day by day, for some time. If you don’t believe it, watch 
her" yourself or (have it done) by a number of others.” 

And, having heard this, the king went himself. Standing at the door in order to watch 
Kanayamanjari, who had entered the room, he saw the doings described already and how she 
instructed her own self. His heart was filled with joy. “O what prudence of hers! O what 
freedom from pride! O what discrimination! Therefore she is in every respect a treasure of all 
excellences; and these [her fellow-wives] are envious by reason of their being fellow-wives. 
For even excellence they deem a fault.” 

And full of joy the king made her mistress of the whole kingdom and invested her with 
the turban." 


The king was right. Her conduct in prosperity proved her to be a rare jewel 
among women; and though this story, which clearly is an abridgment anyhow, in 
many respects ranks below that of the Arabian Nights, Kanayamanjari showed such 
eminent qualities in all her dealings that Sheherezade need not be ashamed of her 
Hindu mother. 


15 Literally ‘from that time,” the time when the king 17 Or: “‘investigate the matter.” 


had shown her his favor. 187, e., he had her crowned as pattarajni—as his 


16In the process of washing numberless times. principal wife or queen consort. 


125 


Lao 





THE UNITY OF PLATO’S THOUGHT 





THE UNITY OF PLATO'S THOUGHT 
Paut SHOREY 


PART I 
INTRODUCTION 


Durine the past twenty years Platonic Yorschung has come to mean the investi- 
gation of the relative dates of the dialogues by the statistical study of vocabulary and 
idiom. The general trend of modern philology and the reaction against mystical and 
metaphysical Platonism favored this tendency, and the work would perhaps not have 
been done at all if the workmen had not cherished illusions as to its value. To 
combat these illusions or to test in detail the logic of Sprachstatistik is not the purpose 
of this paper. A merely negative attitude toward any harmless form of human 
endeavor is unfruitful. But granted, since life is short, all that is claimed by the 
enumerators of ca@dzrep and ré yy, the essential quality of Plato’s thought remains for 
some Platonists' a more interesting topic of discussion than the conjectural chronology 
of his writings. It has become the fashion to assert that the one depends upon the 
other, that we cannot interpret Plato’s philosophy until we have determined the 
historic sequence of the dialogues, and with it the true order of development of his 
thought. But we have always known that the Laws and Timeus are late, that the 
Republic belongs to Plato’s full maturity, and that the minor Socratic dialogues are as 
a whole presumably early. To affirm that more is necessary is to beg the question; 
it is to assume the very point in controversy that the philosophy set forth in the 
dialogues did develop in the sense required by the argument. The question is partly 
verbal, Every man’s thought is developed out of nothing somewhere between infancy 
and maturity. Any author whose literary activity, like that of Plato, extends over 
half a century undergoes many minor changes of opinion, and reflects many varying 
moods of himself and his contemporaries. But it is not true of all, or of a majority, of 
the world’s great thinkers that their first tentative gropings toward a philosophy and 
a criticism of life are depicted as in a votive tablet in their earliest published writings, 
or that the works of their riper years present a succession of shifting and dissolving 
views. Yet something like this is the assumption made by the increasing number of 
investigators who, in emulation of the triumphs of the statistical method, are endeay- 
oring to confirm, refute, or correct its results by a study of alleged inconsistencies, 
contradictions, or developments in Platonic doctrine. Abstractly the followers of this 
method would probably repudiate the principle here attributed to them. In their 
practice the desire for striking arguments and definite results leads them to assume 
that Plato was capable of producing a masterpiece like the Protagoras before his most 
characteristic philosophical and ethical conceptions had taken shape in his mind, and 


1Notably for Bontrz ; see the judicious observations in Platonische Studien, 3d ed., pp. 270 ff. and passim. 
129 


4 Tue Unity oF PLAtTo’s THOUGHT 





that throughout the period of his maturest writings his leading ideas were in a state 
of Heraclitean flux, or were being casually developed from year to year. This method 
misleads scholars of great acumen and erudition to make false points, to labor fantastic 
analogies, and to cite irrelevant parallels. It betrays them into misplaced emphasis, 
disregard of the context, and positive mistranslation. In short, it necessitates the 
systematic violation of all the canons of the simple, sane, and natural interpretation of 
literature.” Plato avoided rather than sought a rigid technical terminology, and 
prodigally varied the language and imagery in which he clothed his most familiar 
thoughts. Every variation of phrase and imagery is pressed to yield significant 
contradictions or developments. The most far-reaching conclusions are drawn from 
‘“*dialectic,” 
“sensation,” ‘“‘reminiscence,” “ participation,’ ‘‘presence,” ‘com- 


the different shades of meaning attached to such words as “opinion,” 


‘* philosophy,” 
munion,” freely and untechnically employed by Plato to suit the theme and context.’ 
The absence in any work of explicit insistence on a thought is supposed to prove the 
absence of the thought from Plato’s mind at the time, and as a consequence, we are 
expected to believe in the most incredible combinations of maturity and naiveté within 
the same writing. Or we are taught that Plato’s development, like some Sophoclean 
sentences, proceeds in the order aba, and consisted in the acceptance, the rejection, 
and the re-acceptance of the same idea. The most reckless assertions are made that 
certain elementary thoughts appear for the first time in certain dialogues. The 
emphatic introduction of a term or idea is, according to the exigencies of the theory, 
now taken as proof that it is a novelty, and now explained away as a mere dramatic 
artifice. The rapid outline of an argument is alternately regarded, according to the 
requirements of the “chronology,” as an anticipatory germ or a later résumé of the 
fuller treatment found elsewhere. Fantastic conceits or bare possibilities as to Plato’s 
literary motives and polemical intentions are treated as absolute psychological and 
historical certainties and made the basis of serious arguments.’ 

May there not be some zp@tov weddos involved in a conception that thus betrays 
its advocates? It is of course a priori conceivable that Plato’s thought did unfold 
itself in this tentative and fumbling fashion. Examples of such mutations and nuta- 
tions can be found among the Fichtes and Schellings of modern philosophy. They 
are still more frequent, as Professor Gildersleeve has wittily shown, in the history 
of modern philology, and, as I may add, in the interpretation of Plato. But it is at least 
| equally probable that Plato’s philosophy and his conception of life had taken shape 
at the age of thirty or thirty-five, and that his extant works, though not of course a pre- 
determined systematic exposition, are the naturally varied reflection of a homogene- 
ous body of opinion, and of a consistent attitude in the interpretation and criticism of 


2 Examples throughout the paper. alized statements and criticisms of tendencies in the 
thought of the time, and especially the hypothesis that he 
satirized contemporaries under the names of earlier 
Sophists. Such hypotheses will be wholly disregarded in 

4To this category belong nearly all conjectures as to the following study, as a mere hindrance to the apprehen- 
the particular philosophers referred to in Plato’s gener- sion of Plato’s own meanings. 


130 


8Infra, and LuTosLAWwskI, Origin and Growth of 
Plato's Logic, passim. 


PauL SHOREY 5 








contemporary life. And if this were the fact, it would be a far more important fact for 
the interpretation of his writings than the determination of the relative dates of the 
Pheedo and Symposium or even than the demonstration that the Sophist, Statesman 
and Philebus follow rather than precede the Republic. I am not arguing against 
such a dating of the dialectical dialogues. I do not deny the value of the more vivid 
conception that we gain of Plato’s later mood and manner by combining and compar- 
ing the traits of these dialogues with those of the Laws and Timeus. This is no 
apyos Aoyos directed against all sober critical investigation of the difficult problem of 
Plato’s chronology. But the attempt to base such a chronology on the variations and 
developments of Plato’s doctrine has led to an exaggeration of Plato’s inconstancy that 
violates all sound principles of literary interpretation and is fatal to all genuine intelli- 
gence of his meaning. The implicit canon of this method is that variation in literary 
machinery and expression must be assumed to imply divergence or contradiction in 
thought. To this I wish to oppose an interpretation based on the opposite canon: 
that we are to assume contradiction or serious alteration in Plato’s thought only in 
default of a rational literary or psychological explanation of the variation in the form 
of its expression. As Professor Maguire says in his forgotten but very acute essays 
on the Platonic ethics: “ If we are anxious to find out inconsistencies in appearance, 
we shall find them in abundance. But the student of Plato will perhaps discover that 
it is more fruitful, because more philosophical to commence with the points of agree- 
ment.” The ultimate test of the two methods must lie in the appeal to specific texts 
and contexts, and there will be no lack of this in the following pages. But by way of 
preparation it is first advisable to enumerate some of the general features of Plato’s 
writings that make the sane and simple literary interpretation of his meaning so diffi- 
cult and so rare. 

1. Plato is not only a thinker, but also a dramatic artist and an impassioned moral 
and religious teacher. Although, as Schopenhauer says, he is really the most severe 
and consistent of logicians, and holds the threads of his design in an iron hand, his 
dramatis personae affect to follow whither the argument blows,’ and he often seems 
more concerned to edify or entertain than to demonstrate and conclude. Wherever 
his zsthetic or moral preferences are involved he cavils on terminology and breaks 
into seemingly irrelevant eloquent digressions in a Ruskinian fashion sorely puzzling 
to those not in sympathy with his mood. If forced to accept the substance of a repug- 
nant theory, he translates it into language more consonant with his feelings. This 
peculiar mixture of rhetoric and logic, of edification and science, misleads both the 
sentimentalist and the scientific puritan. The one often mistakes the ornament for 
the substance, the other distrusts perfectly sound reasoning because of his distaste 
for its emotional accompaniment. 

Again, Plato stimulates our own speculation in so many ways that we are apt to mis- 
take the drift of his meanings not because it is not clearly defined, but because we abandon 


5 Not only in the earlier dialogues, but in Rep., 394D; Thectet., 172 D; Laws, 667 A. 
131 


6 Tue Unity or PLATO’s THOUGHT 





it to pursue our own. The clever essayist tells us what he himself thought @ propos of 
this or that brilliant suggestion. The investigator too often begins by selecting a few 
detached notions and formulas as adequately representative of each dialogue, and then 
proceeds to juggle with ingenious combinations of these and the interpretations put 
upon them by his predecessors. Neither interprets Plato’s real thoughts as they lie 
open to any competent reader who will patiently study him to the end and report the 
things on which he lays most stress.” 

2. In the second place, Plato’s dramatic quality affects not only the artistic setting 
and the personages, but the ideas which he brings upon the stage. Plato’s serious 
meaning detaches itself with perfect distinctness for the faithful student. But the 
hasty reader is more likely than not to receive as Platonic ideas that have a purely 
dramatic significance; or that are falsified by isolation from their context.’ And the 
investigator in pursuit of a thesis too often attributes specifically to Protagoras, 
Antisthenes, Euclid, or Isocrates ideas that Plato has generalized and decked out 
beyond all recognition, as representatives of the spirit of the age. 

Again, arguing for victory, the maintenance of a thesis in jest to test an oppo- 
nent’s metal or display one’s own ingenuity was a common practice in the world which 
Plato depicts, and is frequently illustrated in his writings. The Platonic Socrates, 
under cover of an ironical profession of ignorance, employs a similar method to 
expose showy pretenders to universal knowledge, to produce a salutary conviction of 
ignorance, or to stimulate youthful thought, and prepare the way for a more serious 
analysis by an exposition of the antinomies latent in conventional opinions. It fol- 
lows that the ostensible failure to conclude an argument, the avowal of bewilderment 
and perplexity, the admission even of positive fallacies of logic in any given dialogue 
prove nothing as to the stage of development of Plato’s own thought at the time. The 
hypothesis that the fallacy was intentional, and that the azopéa was affected for a 
purpose, has at least an equal claim to be tested by all the probabilities in each case. 

3. Expositors of Plato seem strangely oblivious of the limits thus far set to all 
systems of philosophy. They treat as peculiar defects of Plato the inconsistencies 
which they detect in his ultimate metaphysics after they have elaborated it into a 
rigid system which he with sound instinct evaded by poetry and myth. They 
habitually write as if they themselves and their intelligent readers were in possession 
of a final philosophy which reconciles all conflicting claims of metaphysical analysis 
and common sense, and from the heights of which they may study merely as a his- 
torical phenomenon Plato’s primitive fumbling with such problems as the nature of 


®6Such a reader is Bonitz for the most part in his ad- _—_ were intended seriously, and not a few continue to quote 
mirable analyses. Thecetet., 156 ff., as Platonic doctrine. Under this head 
7A notable example is Herbert Spencer's inference fall most of the ‘‘fallacies” discovered in Plato: those of 


from Rep., 339D, that Plato, like Hobbes, makes state the Parmenides, which, as we shall see, are intentional; 
enactments the source of right. So President Eliot has those of the Gorgias, dramatically justifiable against the 
been recently misled by ZELLER’S misuse of Rep., 421 A extreme thesis maintained by Callicles; those of Rep., I, 
(Phil. der Griechen, 4th ed., Vol. II, No. 1, p. 890), to prove 333 E, and 349 B, which Zeller (p. 652) thinks Plato did not 
that Plato would not educate the masses. Many scholars  Percelve. 

still seem to think that the etymologies of the Cratylus 


132 


PAauL SHOREY 


-~l] 





universals, the antinomy of unity and plurality in thought and things," the relation of 
mind and body, the possibility of a consciousness of self or a knowledge of knowl- 
edge, the proof of immortality, the freedom of the will, the difficulty of conceiving or 
defining good except in relation to evil, the alternative of excepting thoroughgoing 
relativism and phenomenalism or of positing a nowmenon that cannot be described or 
brought into intelligible relation with phenomena. We are told that he has ‘“‘keine 
Ableitung des Sinnlichen,” as if there were somewhere extant a satisfactory deduction 
of the sensible world from some higher metaphysical principle. It is objected that 
the relation of the ideas to the Deity is undefined, and that the personality of God is 
not investigated, as if any results could follow from an attempt to define the relation 
of the metaphysical nowmenon to the Deity, or from an investigation of the person- 
ality of God. The absence of a complete table of categories is taken as a defect in 
Plato’s system or as a proof of the immaturity of the Phedrus, as if the Aristotelian 
and Kantian categories were not mere illusions of the metaphysical instinct, and Plato 
was not far wiser in proposing only such categories and classifications as the argument 
in hand required. 

A chief merit of Plato is that he clearly recognizes and sharply defines the limits 
of scientific thought in these matters. When the interests of the moral and religious 
life, as he conceives them, are at stake he resorts to myth to express his hopes and 
aspirations. Where the epistemological problem compromises the foundations of prac- 
tical certainty and sound method, he arbitrarily postulates the solution that will best 
serve his chief purpose — the extrication of a practicable working logic from the hope- 
less dialectical muddle of his time. But he is always careful to distinguish his neces- 
sary practical postulates from his mythical and metaphysical assumptions.’ The 
dogmatism of his later works has been as much exaggerated as the Socratic doubt of 
the minor dialogues.” 

4. As a fourth cause of misapprehension we may count a certain quaint and curious 
subtlety in the use of abstraction and antithesis characteristic of all Greek writers, but 
earried to its farthest extreme in Plato. His reasoning often proceeds by what 
seem to us excessively minute verbal links. This is generally thought to mean 
merely that the modern mind has learned to abridge the formal process by taking some 
things for granted. But it is often due to Plato’s anxiety to anticipate the cavils and 
quibbles of the age before logic; or his wish to bring out neglected shades of meaning. 

Again, Plato, like all serious reasoners, employs unreal abstractions to express 
ideals and test hypotheses by extreme cases." But in addition to this the Platonic 
Socrates meets a fallacious and fantastic abstraction from the conditions of reality, not 

8Astonishment is often expressed at the attention apodictic replies in the ‘later’ works proyes nothing that 


bestowed by Plato upon the problem of the one and the is not already involved in the fact that they are not dra- 
many, as if, transferred to psychology, it were not still matic disputations. A consenting respondent naturally 


the crux of all our metaphysics. gives “‘apodictic’’ answers. 
9 Meno, 86B; Pheedr., 252 C, 265C, 274C ; Rep., 416 BC, 11 Z. g., the isolation of pleasure and intelligence in 
517 B, 506 C. Phileb., 21, to which Grote objects. 


10 Tim., 72D, Laws, 641D, 799 D, 812 A. The percentage of 
133 


8 THE Unity oF PuLato’s THOUGHT 








by exposing the fallacy, but by translating all the real facts into the language of 
abstraction. There is no real fallacy in such procedure, but a sense of fallacy results 
for the modern reader.” Allied to this is the use or abuse of antithesis. Opposite 
views are first stated with ruthless consistency in their most abstract and extreme 
form. And the truth is approached through a series of compromises and mediations.” 
Dramatically, Plato is right. This is the course of discussion among ordinary men in 
all ages. But the elaborate refutations which Plato thinks fit to give of the crudest 
form of hostile theories sometimes produces an impression of unfairness upon modern 
critics.* They forget two things: first, that he always goes on to restate the theory 
and refute its fair meaning; second, that in the case of many doctrines combated by 
Plato there is no evidence that they ever were formulated with the proper logical quali- 
fications except by himself.” 

5. In the fifth place, and finally, we may mention the difficulty of confining 
the infinite variety and suggestiveness of Plato’s thoughts in the framework of 
any system either of philosophy or of exposition. It is possible to present 
Plato’s ethical and social ideals in a fairly systematic résumé. The theory of 
ideas may be restated in the Platonic terminology, which does not teach us much, 
or analyzed in relation to the underlying psychological and ontological problems. 
Special chapters might be written on Plato’s attitude toward inchoate physical science, 
the temper in which he faced the religious problems of an age of transition, his portrayal 
and criticism of the literary and artistic life of his time. But a complete system 
of philosophy with principles subordinate, derivative, and interdependent, and a fixed 
technical terminology, cannot be extracted from the Platonic writings. This will not 
greatly grieve those who are aware of the perfect futility of all such system-building, 
even when the architect possesses the genius of a Spinoza, a Kant, or a Schopen- 
hauer. But the expositor of Plato can hardly avoid attempting to cast his exposition 
into some systematic form, and the recalcitrance of his material is to him a serious 
problem. No method is quite satisfactory. The atomism of Grote, Jowett, Bonitz, 
and Horn, that treats each dialogue as an isolated unit, is the renunciation of all 
method. The clever attempts of a succession of French expositors to deduce all Platon- 
ism symmetrically from a few principles are more ingenious than convincing.” The 
exhaustive schematism of Zeller, applied alike to all philosophers from Thales to 
Plotinus, is philologically a masterly achievement of German erudition. But, though 


12. g., in Rep., I, 346, the separation of mic@wrxy, the 
wage-earning power, from the other functions of each art 
and craft. 

13 Philebus, Thecetetus, Rep., 1 and II, Gorgias. 

4 E. g., in the Cratylus, 385 A, thetheory that language 
is a mere convention is first stated in the most extreme 
form. Inthe Gorgias a long argument is spent to drive 
Callicles from a position which he affirms was assumed in 
jest (499B). In Rep., 338C., Thrasymachus’s definition of 
justice is taken in a grotesquely unfair sense in order to 
force him to state it more clearly. Cf, Laws, 714C; Gorg., 


451 E, 453B, 489D. Similar is the treatment of Homo Men- 
sura in the Protagoras, and the claim of pleasure to be the 
chief good in the Philebus. 


15 Plato may have found hints and suggestions of the 
views he brings on the stage in Euripides and the Sophists 
(DiUmMuER, Prolegomena zu Platons Staat). But so far as 
we know, he is the first thinker who could present a com- 
plete logical statement of any philosophical theory in all 
its bearings. 

16 See my review of HALtvy, Théorie platonicienne des 
sciences, Philosophical Review, Vol. V, p. 522. 


134 


PAUL SHOREY 8) 











rarely admitting gross and palpable errors, Zeller’s exposition frequently misses the 
true proportions, perspective, and emphasis that would be brought out by a more 
flexible literary and philosophic interpretation. 

The present study, though it touches on most topics of the Platonie philosophy, 
does not attempt a complete historical survey. Some subjects I have discussed else- 
where. There are many details (in the Laws and Timeus, e. g.) which would be 
irrelevant to the main purpose of emphasizing the unity of Plato’s thought. The order 
of presentation adopted after many attempts is a compromise between the systematic 
and the atomistic. The Platonic ethics, the theory of ideas, and an outline of the 
psychology will first be set forth as a whole. A group of logical and metaphysical 
problems will be discussed in connection with the Sophist and Parmenides. Other 
topics and some repetitions from a different point of view will follow in a survey of the 
principal dialogues taken one by one. 


I. ETHICS 


The chief topics of the Platonic ethics are these: (1) the Socratic paradoxes; 
(2) the definition of the virtues, and, more particularly, the determination of their 
relation to a postulated supreme science or art, to happiness, to the political or royal 
art, to the idea of good; (3) the problem of hedonism; and (4), associated with it, 
the attempt to demonstrate the inseparability of virtue and happiness.” 

1. Plato always formally maintained that all wrongdoing is involuntary;" that 
virtue is insight or knowledge, is in its essence one, and can in some sense be taught.” 
Sometimes he merely dramatically illustrates the conflicts that arise between these 
paradoxes and common-sense. Elsewhere, most explicitly in the Laws,” but by impli- 
cation even in the minor dialogues, he reveals his perception that these propositions 
ean be reconciled with experience only by the conscious employment of words in a 
special sense.” Wrongdoing is involuntary (1) because all men will the good or what 
they deem the good;* (2) because no man who knows the right will do the wrong, if 
we take knowledge in the highest sense, or refuse the term to any cognition that does 
not control the will;” (3) because the conditions that shape conduct lie far more in 
heredity, education, and environment than in our conscious wills.“ The contradiction 
noted by Aristotle between this charitable principle and the edifying proclamation 
“virtue is free,” is emotional rather than scientific.” The modern free-will contro- 
versy arises out of two conceptions not connected with this problem by Plato: the 


17 These are, as a matter of fact, the chief topics of the 20689 D, 696C, T10A, Hv tes ceuvivwy av Aéyor, ppdvnow 
ethical dialogues. If we base Plato’s ethics on the idea of  mpocavayKxagwy elvar Td cwhpoverv, 
good, or on any other metaphysical principle or schema- 21 Laches, 196E; Laches, 191 E, avépeion . . . . év jdovais, 
tism, we shall distort his meanings. cf. Laws, 683 DE, and Rep., 429D; Rep., 443 E, 4444; 
1SXEN., Mem., 3, 9,4; 4, 6,6; Apol., 26A; Protag., 345D, Thecetet., 116 C; Polit., 306 A. 
358 CD; Meno, 77,78; Gorg., 466 E, 467 B=Rep., 577 E= Laws, 22 Meno, 11; Euthydem., 279; Symp., 205A; Gorg., 468. 


688 B; Rep., 382 A (?), 413 A (?), 492 E (2), 589C; Phileb., 22B; 9 ro) ne 
3 Protag.. 352B: 8, 689: ot. Y 
Soph., 228C, 230A; Tim., 86D; Laws, 731 C, 734 B, 860 D. Sich fei dh ony at nat oc eae 
19 Huthydem., 2820; Laws, 644A, as ot ye dp0as memadev- *4Tim., 86 D. % Rep., 617 E, apern 5¢ a5€anorov. 
pevoe oxedov ayabor yiyvovTa, 26 Cf, my note in A, J. P., Vol. X, p. 77. 


135 


10 Tue Unity or Piato’s THOUGHT 








infinite foreknowledge of God, and the absolute continuity of physical causation. It 
is, then, unprofitable to inquire whether Plato taught free-will or determinism.” 
But it should be distinctly noted that in the Laws he employs precisely the logic of 
modern determinism to prove that the involuntary character of wrongdoing is com- 
patible with the distinction for legal purposes of voluntary and involuntary acts.” 

Virtue is knowledge because it must be assumed to be a good, and the only certain 
good, the only sure guide to the good use of what the world calls good, is knowledge.” 
Opinion and habit may often suffice to regulate action, but persistent right opinion 
presupposes knowledge in its teachers, and the highest rule of conduct must be 
deduced from and referred to a rational apprehension of ultimate good.” Virtue is 
one because each of the virtues is a form of knowledge,” or because each, when taken 
in the highest sense, involves all the others.” Virtue is teachable in the senses in 
which knowledge and right opinion may be taught. The capacity for knowledge, the 
divine faculty, is innate, but teaching and guidance may direct it toward the good.” 
The ordinary virtues of habit and opinion may fairly be said to be taught when they 
are systematically inculeated by superior wisdom enlisting all the forces of society in 
its service.“ This is not the case at Athens,” and therefore the Platonic Socrates 
alternately affirms and denies the possibility of teaching ‘‘virtue,”®” and at the close 
of the Meno declares that under present conditions it comes by a grace divine which 
is equivalent to chance.” 

Plato uses, but is not himself confused ‘by, the Socratic analogy between the 
virtues and the arts and sciences.” That comparison, though it ignores the distinctively 
ethical element, contains a certain measure of truth. In a sense, each of us is good 
in that which he knows.” Knowledge as ordinarily understood is not virtue, but it 


27 ZELLER, p. 853; JowETT, Vol. III, pp. 408, 425. to knowledge, opinion is imparted €v tp racdeta, 429C, i. €., 


28 861-864C. The meaning of the passage, though often 5 valvamally eats 


misunderstood, is perfectly clear, and Plato warns us, 34 Rep., 500D, 429C D; Polit., 309D; Laws, passim. 
864 B, not to cavil about the terminology. 35 Rep., 492E; Tim., 81B; Meno, 93B ff.; Protag., 320; 

29 Huthydem., 281, 289; Meno, 88C. Cf. from another Rep., 520B; Buthyphro, 2CD; Gorg.. 521D; Apol., 24, 25; 
point of view Pheedo, 69A B; Protag., 356, 357, with Phileb., Laches, 179 CD. 


4B. 36 Protag.; Meno; Euthyd., 282C (274E). 
30 Meno, 917B; Meno, 100A, ofos cat dAAov rorqoat, etc. Cf. 37 For this interpretation of #e‘a woipa see MAGUIRE, p. 
Euthyd., 292D; infra, p. 16: Laws, 951 B. 63, and ZELLER’s full refutation of other views, p. 594, n. 4, 


at 5 Rep., 492, 493. At present good men spring up av’ropara 

31 Laches; Protag.; Phado, 69AB. Meno, 71D ff., is (Rep., 520B; cf. Protag., 320A; Euthyd., 282C); even in 

logical rather than ethical. The unity of dpe7y is postu- vicious states, Laws, 951 B, dei Oetoi ties oF moAAK . . . . 
lated, like that of any other abstract idea, as a precondi- SUSLEvOLOUsey LaANoylewlenvonounévalstroncaoa alin 


2 fe tion 
tion ofiel definition 88The lesser Hippias (certainly by Plato) presents the 


22Gorg., 501A; Laws, 696C. There is a suggestion of _ fa)lacy in its most paradoxical form (the voluntary lie better 
this also in the (of course intentional, Bonrrz, Platonic than the involuntary) and by its obvious irony (372D E, 
Studies, p. 265) fallacies of Protag., 330, 331. 376C) shows that Plato ‘already’ in the Socratic period 

33 Rep., 518B, 519A. This apparently contradicts the does not take it seriously, but merely uses it for dramatic 
statement of the Meno, 99A, and Protag., 361B, that ém- Ff propwdeutic Purposes. ZELLER, p. 597, takes this as 
omy alone can be taught. But the objection is captious. Plato’s real opinion, citing Rep., 535D and 382, which 
The Republic is satirizing the exaggerated claims of the merely use the paradoxical terminology to emphasize the 
Sophists and is speaking of the faculty, not the content, of thought, acceptable to Mill or Huxley, that the mere intel- 
knowledge. The whole higher education is a teaching of lectual love of truth (knowledge) ought to be counted a 
knowledge in a sense. And, on the other hand, though virtue as well as the ordinary virtue of truthfulness. 


both Plato and Aristotle limit teaching in the strict sense 39 Laches, 194D; Lysis, 210D; Rep., 349 E. 
136 


Paut SHOREY 11 





does away with many forms of wrongdoing. 
how is less likely to be afraid.” 


It is not courage, but the man who knows 
It is not cappoovrn, but it is incompatible with many 
forms of a¢pocvvn, The wise man knows his own limits, and will undertake only what 
he can perform." Partly for these reasons, and partly because he did not or, in ironical 
assumption that others were even as himself, would not recognize that men know the 
right and yet the wrong pursue, the Platonic Socrates seems to ignore the chief ethical 
factor, a virtuous will, and argues that he who knows justice is just.” But such “fal- 
lacies” are for Plato merely the starting-point of a fuller analysis. All knowledge is 
good and commendable,” but the supreme knowledge that may be identified with 
“virtue” is plainly something different from the specialties of the arts and sciences.“ 
Courage, for example, apart from mere animal and temperamental fearlessness, may be 
defined as knowledge of what is and is not to be feared. But this involves real knowl- 
edge of good and evil, a complete ideal of life, either that of the Sophists and average 
Athenian opinion, or that unfolded by Plato himself in the Republic. The attempt to 
define courage in the absence of these distinctions merely illustrates the inadequacy 
of conventional ethical thought.” 

The effective application to these problems of the obvious distinction between 
science and right opinion requires the larger canvas of the Republic. And even then 
it remains true that the courage most worthy of the name implies a complete philo- 
sophic mastery of the conception of life that educates the masses in such right opinion.” 
Plato tacitly assumes that this supreme knowledge will be inseparable from the vir- 
tuous will in his philosophic statesmen as it is in Socrates.” And thus on this higher 
plane the Socratic paradox becomes true again. 

It matters little to the consistency and unity of Plato’s thought whether we 
regard this harmony of the intellect and the will as a mere ideal or as a practicable 
postulate realized in Socrates and to be fulfilled by others in a reformed society. The 
distinction once drawn, the ideal once affirmed, Plato can afford to make concessions 
to common-sense. He can admit that in present experience a kind of bravery is 


40 Laches, 193; Protag., 350. 
41XEN., Mem., 2, 2, 24; Charm.,171 DE; Alc., I, 117 DE; 


between the desires and the ethical convictions the grossest 
form of “ignorance.” 


Sophist, 229C; Laws, 7382 A. 

42Gorg., 460 B. The fallacy, so far as it is one, is in- 
tentional. Observe xara tovrov rov Aoyov, and the explana- 
tion in Rep., 438 D E, that the knowledge of health, though 
differentiated from knowledge in general, is not neces- 
sarily healthful. Cf. also the recognition of common-sense 
in 444D, rd pev Sixaca mparrery Sixacogvyyv eumoret, But for 
the broad purposes of the argument of the Gorgias it is 
true (460 E) that rhetoric, if really the science of the just, 
could not be the instrument of injustice which Gorgias 
with unconscious immorality complacently represented it 
to be. Socrates is olos tov éuav pydevi GdAw meiberOar 7 TO 
Asyw, Crito, 45 B; cf. Laches, 188 DE; Gorg., 488A. Hence, 
as Aristotle (2th. nic., 7, 2,1), quoting Protag., 352 B, says, 
he thought it monstrous that any other impulse in man 
should prevail over his better knowledge. And Plato in 
his latest work refuses the term ‘‘ knowledge ”’ to any belief 
that does not control the will, and pronounces discord 


43 Protag., 318 B; Laches, 182 D. 


44 Charm.,165C; Euthydem., 282 E, 290; Protag., 311, 312, 
319A; Laws, 961 E ff. 


45 Laches; Protag., 349, 350, 360 D; Rep., 429, 430. 


46The courage defined in 429C is only roActixyy ye. Cf. 
Synuody ye, Laws, T110A; Polit., 309E; Phedo, 82A. There 
are, strictly speaking, three or four grades; brute animal 
courage, the courage of soldiers and citizens in ordinary 
states, the citizen courage of the Platonic state, the philo- 
sophic courage. 


47 This harmony is the chief point in the selections and 
tests applied to them; Rep., 485, 486, 539 D ff. Cf. Polit., 
309A B. The Laws emphasize character, as compared with 
intellect, still more, and preserve the identity of the moral 
and the intellectual ‘‘ which are ever dividing, but must 
ever be reunited” (Jowett), by reserving the word ** wise” 
for the virtuous, 689 D. 


137 


12 Tue Unity oF PLATtTo’s THOUGHT 





found dissociated from the other virtues.“ He can allow the word cwdpocvvn to be 
used merely for the instinctive temperamental moderation in appetite that is the for- 
tunate endowment of some children and animals.“ He can recognize that knowledge, 
or at least quickness and acumen of thought, is not infrequently associated with 
intemperance and injustice.” But he prefers to translate the facts into a more edify- 
ing terminology. Conventional virtue is a worthless currency unless redeemable and 
redeemed by and in the coin of wisdom.” And, on the other hand, we will refuse the 
name of wise to him whose will does not follow his judgment of right; and we will 
grant it to the man who knows enough to obey his acquired belief in the good rather 
than the innate promptings of appetite, though he know not how to swim or recite 
the alphabet.” 

2. Plato found the suggestion of the cardinal virtues and of the predominance of 
justice in the poets. He also mentions oovdrns” and peyadorpérea, the latter some- 
times with irony.“ But the number four was consecrated by its incorporation in the 
scheme of the Republic. This implies no change of doctrine. Even in the Republic 
other virtues are mentioned.” And in the Huthyphro it is hinted that piety is a form 
of justice.” 

Plato would always recognize piety as one of the chief virtues, or perhaps as a 
synonym of all virtue,” and he would always shrink from giving so problematical a 
concept a place in a scientific scheme.” 

Several of the minor dialogues turn on the attempt to define the virtues and allied 
notions. The Laches and Charmides are both Socratic quests for definition —of 
courage in the one case, of temperance in the other. Both involve the antithesis of 
the quiet and the energetic temperament.” Both terminate in perplexity—in the 
puzzle that, if any one virtue is identified with the supreme knowledge that will make 


48 Protagoras maintains this view, Protag., 350,and is of piety, Ishould accept that of Bonitz as formulated by 
not answered by Socrates, who refutes him only indirectly PROFESSOR HEIDEL (introduction to his edition of Euthy- 
by the proof that all virtue is one—the science of measur- _phro, p. 24). It is the endeavor to realize the good felt as 
ing pleasure and pain. But the obvious fact of experience the service of God, and asa willed co-operation with Him. 
is presumably as clear to Plato when he allows Protagoras _ But this is a mood in relation to, or an emotional synonym 
to state it as when it istenunciated more explicitly inthe of, all virtue. It is not one aspect of virtue which it is 
Politicus, 306 B, or the Laws, 631C. ZELLER (p.599) incom- _ necessary to distinguish in relation to a special field of 
prehensibly affirms that the plurality in unity of virtueis conduct or a particular classification of the faculties of 


found only in the Republic! the soul. 
49 Laws, 710A B. 58The suggestion that the Huthyphro ‘ eliminates” 
50 Rep., 519A; Laws, 689D, ova mpos taxos Hs Wuxis; piety, and that the Meno may be dated by its recognition 
Theeetet., 176 C. of oavdrns (78 D) is utterly fantastic. 
51 Pheedo., 69 B. 59 Of. Charm., 159 B ff., with Polit., 307A B. Tempera- 


ment is not virtue, but is the basis of the seeming opposi- 
tion between bravery and temperance ( Polit., 306, 307; Rep., 
410 DE, 5083C D; Laws, 735 A, 681 B, 773 B, 881 E; Protag., 
349E). Nicias and Laches, for want of this distinction, 


52 Laws, 689D, write ypaupata pyre ve. Cf. Thecetet., 
176 C, To obv adtxovvTe . . . . MaKp@ apioT’ EXEL TO WN TVYXwpELV 
Seve iro mavovpyias elvac. The whole passage is in the 


BCU ETEE maintain opposite paradoxes. Socrates calls our attention 

53 Protag., 329C; Meno, 78D; Laches, 199 D. to this by attributing to Nicias the doctrine omotws Aéovra 

54 Meno, T4A; Rep.,560E. In Meno, 88 A, eimaBera and ai EAahov . . . . mpos avipecav — mepuxévat (196 E). In the Re- 
nv are included. public (430 B), Plato chooses to deny the term “ bravery” 
to mere animal courage. In the Laws, 963 E, he attributes 
a kind of courage to children and animals. But ofotws 
mepuxévat pointedly ignores the distinction of tempera- 
‘i'1f it were desirable to produce a Platonic definition ment. 


138 


15 402 C, eAcvPeprorns, meyadomrpéereca 536 A, 
50 Cf. also Protag., 331 A. 


PauL SHOREY 13 





us happy, the distinction between the virtues vanishes ;” 
knowledge that is good is knowledge of the good." 

It is often assumed (1) that Plato was serious in these attempts to express by a 
phrase or a substituted synonym the essence of a virtue and the various and contradic- 
tory meanings of its conventional name; (2) that the failure and pretended perplexity of 
Socrates at the close mark the point reached by Plato’s own thought at the time. This 
But the following considerations make it highly improbable: 


62 


or in the tautology that the 


is a@ priori conceivable. 

a) Plato, in this unlike Xenophon, 
true theory and use of the definition and of the multiple meanings of -ethical terms. 
All attempts in his writings to work out absolute and isolated definitions fail.” His 
own definitions, when not mere illustrations,“ are always working hypotheses” or 


always proceeds as if he were aware of the 


epigrammatic formulas, subordinate ‘to and interpreted by the argument of which 
they form a part, and recognized as imperfect, but sufficient for the purpose in hand.” 
The definitions of the virtues in Rep., 429 ff. cannot be understood apart from their 
context, and are never used again. They are declared to be a mere sketech— 
troypapny, 504D." Howshall we explain this on the supposition that he was under 
any illusion as to the value of absolute and isolated definitions ? 

b) Plato repeatedly refers in a superior way to eristic, voluntary and involuntary,” 
and more particularly to the confusion, tautology, and logomachy into which the vulgar 
fall when they attempt to discuss abstract and ethical problems.” Some of these 
allusions touch on the very perplexities and fallacies exemplified in the minor 
dialogues.” They do not imply that Plato himself had ever been so confused.” Why 
should we assume that he deceives us in order to disguise his changes of opinion, or 


60 Laches, 199 E. 

61 Charm., 174 B; cf. Rep., 505 BC—a connection gener- 
ally missed. 

62The Xenophontie Socrates perceives no difficulties, 
is never in doubt, and propounds dogmatically such defini- 
tions as voucwov = dixacov, Mem., IV, 4, 12. 

63 Except the not quite serious definitions reached by 
dichotomy in the Sophist and Politicus. Cf. Charmides, 
Laches, Lysis, Meno, Theceetetus, Euthyphro, Hippias Major, 

647axos, Laches, 192B; oxjua, Meno, 75, 16; mmnAos, 
Thecetet., 147. C; HaAcos, ibid., 208D.  - 

65 Pheedr., 237 D, onodoyia O€nevor opov, Cf, 263 DE. 

66 BE. g., pntopixn=modcrexys wopiov eidwauv, Gorg., 463 D, but 
in Phedr., 261A, Wuxaywyia tis Sta Aoywv. Cf. the defini- 
tions of cwppoovvy, Phcedr., 237 E. 

67 The Laws repeats the substance of the definition of 
justice, 863 E: thy yap tov Ovpod .., . Kat émBupray ev Wux7 
tupavvida ,..~- Tartws adixiav mpocayopevw, Cf. 689A B, 70 
yap Avrovpevov Kai ydouevov avtis (sc. THS WuxXTS) OTEp SHLOs 
Te kai tAMOos TOAEWs Eotiv. Cf. Rep., 442 A, 65 mAciorov ris 
Wux7s, ete. 

68 Rep., 454A; Phileb., 14C, éxodoi te Kai axovow; The- 
cetet., 206B, éxovra  axovta maigew; Theetet., 167 E; 
Sophist, 259D; already in Lysis, 216A B. Cf. infra, p. 19. 

69 Pheedr., 237 C, 263, and, from a slightly different point 
of view, Rep., 5388D; Phado, 90C. This is largely due to a 
false conceit of knowledge, Phadr., 237C, which the Elen- 
chus as described in Soph., 230 B, and practised in the minor 


dialogues cures. Cf. Meno, 841A B. So Soph., 232 AB, gives 
the raison d’étre of passages (Gorgias, Protag., Ion) in 
which a pretender to universal knowledge is pressed for a 
specific definition of his function which he naturally is 
unable to give. 

70 Polit., 306 ff., especially 306A, 7d yap apetns pmépos 
apetas cider Staopoy eivai twa tporov Tois TeEpi Adyots audit By- 
TiKoOls Kat mad’ everiBeTov mpds Tas THY ToAAwY Soéas, Cf. Laws, 
627 D, evoxnmoovvys ... . pywatwv mpos Tov Tov TOAA@Y Aoyor. 
Repub., 348 E, eixomev av te A€yerv kata Ta voutComeva A€yovtes, 
with reference to the arguments of Gorg., 474C ff. Cf. Laws, 
837 A, with reference to the problem of the Lysis; Laws, 
661 B, 687, 688, 688 B, wherathe paradox of Gorg., 467, is 
reaffirmed, e¢ pév BovdAcabe ws maigwv, et 6’ ws arovdalwr; 
Republic, 505 B, with Charm., 173 E-174B; Rep., 505 C, with 
Gorg., 499 B, where Callicles is forced to admit that some 
pleasures are bad. ZELLER(p. 604) thinks that Rep., 505 C, 
refers to the Philebus. But the advocates of a late date 
for the Philebus rightly deny any specific parallel. 

71 Even after the Republic and Politicus, Plato in Laws, 
963 ff., approaches the problem of the “political art’’ and 
the unity of virtue precisely in the manner of the tentative 
dialogues. There is no reason for taking seriously Socrates's 
dramatic bewilderment as to the “political art’’ in Euthy- 
dem., 292 D E, that would not apply equally to the avowal of 
ignorance in Laws, 963B, or in the Politicus itself, 292C. 
The political art, i.e., ultimate ethical and social ‘‘good,” 
was always a problem to Plato, as it must be to any 
thoughtful, conscientious man (Rep., 451A). In the Laws, 


139 


4: THe Unity or PLato’s THOUGHT 








obliterate the traces of his mental growth? Have we not a right to expect dramatic 
illustration of so prominent a feature in the intellectual life of the time, and do we not 
find it in the Laches, Charmides, Lysis, and the corresponding parts of the Pro- 
tagoras? In brief, the Huthydemus, 277, 278; Phedrus, 261, 262; the Theetetus, 
167E; the Republic, 454, 487 BC; the Sophist, 230 B, 251 B, 259C, and Philebus, 
20 A, 15 E, show a clear consciousness of dialectic, not merely as a method of truth, 
but as a game practiced for amusement or eristic, to purge the conceit of ignorance 
or awaken intellectual curiosity. When we find this game dramatically illustrated 
why should we assume naive unconsciousness on Plato’s part? 

c) The Republic, in which Plato explicitly states his solution of these problems, 
is a marvelous achievement of mature constructive thought. But the ideas and dis- 
tinctions required for the solution itself are obvious enough, and it is absurd to affirm 
that they were beyond the reach of a thinker who was capable of composing the Pro- 
tagoras,” the subtle Lysis and Charmides, or the eloquent and ingenious Gorgias. 
That the highest rule of conduct must be based upon complete insight and is the 
possession of a few; that the action of the multitude is determined by habit and 
belief” shaped under the manifold pressure of tradition and public opinion; that the 
virtues may be differently defined according as we refer them to knowledge or to 
opinion and habit; that opinion in the Athens of the Sophists and of the Peloponne- 
sian war was not guided by true philosophy, and therefore was not the “ right opinion” 
which should become the fixed habit of the populace in a reformed society; that the 
Sophists who professed to teach virtue taught at the best conformity to the desires 
and opinions of the many-headed beast, and that therefore in the proper sense virtue 
was not taught at all at Athens; that virtue is one regarded as knowledge, or as the 
spiritual harmony resulting from perfect self-control (443 E), but many as expressing 
the opposition of contrasted temperaments and different degrees of education; and 
that endless logomachies result from the inability of the average disputant to grasp 
these and similar distinctions "— these are reflections that might present themselves to 
any intelligent young man who had listened to Socrates, and surveyed the intellectual 
life of the time, though only the genius of Plato could construct a Republic from 
them. They could occur to Plato at the age of thirty or thirty-five as well as at forty 
or forty-five; and it is extremely naive to assume that so obvious a distinction as that 
between science and opinion, familiar to every reader of Parmenides, and employed to 
bring the Meno to a plausible dramatic conclusion, was a great scientific discovery, 
marking an epoch in Plato’s thought.” 

964 ff., as in the Republic, he finally limits himself to indi- 
cating the kind of training that will prepare the mind to 
apprehend it best. But as against the ideals of Athenian év 


sophists and politicians, his beliefs were defined ‘‘already 
in the Buthyphro, 2C, and the Gorgias, 463 D ff., 521 D. 


4 Rep., 492, 493. 

75 Laws, 964A, Scavood 5€ ws épOv Kai omy TéeTTapa OvTa 
éatt, Kar eue S€ akiov, gov Seitavtos ws €v, madw omy 
TEéeTTAapa, 


76Not to dwell on the resemblance of Meno, 99C, and 


72**One of the finest specimens of analysis in all his 
writings.”—JOHN STUART MILL, Dissertations and Discus- 
sions, Vol. IV, p. 250. 

73 Pheedo, 82A; Rep., 522 A, 619C; Laws, 966C. 


Apology, 22C (cf. also the Ion), why, if Plato has no dra- 
matic reserves, is 6p4% 56a ignored in the Buthydemus? Or 
is the Huthydemus, with its mature logic and its assump- 
tion that virtue can be taught, earlier than the Meno? 


140 


PAUL SHOREY 15 








d) Lastly the structure and logic of the minor dialogues are indicative of dramatic 
design rather than of tentative inquiry. 
and of the antitheses which it involves;" the emphasis laid on the very difficulties 
elucidated by the latter theory; the reserves and qualifications of the argument and 
the hints of dramatic purpose "—all point to Plato’s possession of the clue. The argu- 
ment based on the absence from the “Socratic” dialogues of certain features of the 
longer works begs the point at issue. 

Assuming that Plato undertook to illustrate in brief dramatic discussions the 
ethical logomachies of the day, he would by hypothesis as a rule abstain from Pytha- 
gorean myths, criticism of pre-Socratic thinkers, demonstrations of immortality, psycho- 
logical or physiological digressions, and dogmatic developments of his own philosophy. 
It may be argued that such dramatic dialogues form as a whole an earlier group. It 
cannot be maintained that they mark the stages of Plato’s own progress.” The defini- 
tions of the virtues proposed in the fourth book of the Republic, interpreted by their 
context, meet the dramatic difficulties of the Laches, Charmides, Protagoras, and 
Meno. Courage is not animal fearlessness, neither is it precisely knowledge of things 
terrible and the reverse. But the courage to be expected of the masses in a reformed 
state is the conservation by disciplined feeling of the opinion about things terrible or 
not terrible inculcated by the possessors of such knowledge.” Lodpocvvy is not pre- 
cisely quietness, nor doing one’s own business, nor self-knowledge, though each of 
these definitions emphasizes one of the shades of meaning which Greek usage assigned 
to this ‘mixed mode.” It is in man and state the willing acceptance by all the psychic 
faculties and the corresponding classes in the population of a harmonious scale of 


The systematic evolution of the argument 


71In the Charmides awpoovry is first defined by the 
quiet temperament, 159 B, then by the associated modesty, 
aidws, 159, which is elsewhere its virtual synonym, Pro- 
tag., 322C DE; then by 1a €avtod mparrew, 161 B, another 
rhetorical equivalent, Tim., 72 A, which, however, requires 
an interpretation that Critias is unable to give, even though 
assisted by a hint from Socrates (161E). He cannot gen- 
eralize minding one’s own business, and distinguish (1) the 
economic, (2) the social and political, (3) the psychic 
division of labor; Rep., 443C. The formula is allowed to 
drop, and the equally ambiguous expression ‘‘self-knowl- 
edge” is substituted (164), which is found to involve puz- 
zles that Critias can neither untie nor cut (cf. 167A with 
Meno, 80E; Theeetet., 188 A). 

In the Laches, Laches insists exclusively on the tem- 
peramental aspect of bravery which opposes it to other 
virtues, Nicias on the cognitive element which identifies it 
with them. Laches’s theory tends to show how the virtues 
are many, that of Nicias how they are one (Laws, 963 E ff.). 
But neither can expound his own view completely, still less 
reconcile it with the truth of his adversary. They exemplify 
the logomachy described in Polit., 306, 307. This is the chief 
object of the dialogue, and not the reduction of all virtue 
to knowledge (Zeller), nor the unity of virtue (Horn), nor 
even the establishment of the definition ppovimos xaprepia 
which Bonitz says is the only suggestion not disproved. 

In the Lysis we begin with purely verbal quibbles, pass 
to the suggestive antithesis of the attraction of like and 
unlike in nature and man (214, 215), and conclude with 


the problem of good and eyil, and the ultimate nature of 
desire and the good. 


78 Note the repeated demand that it be shown how ow¢po- 
avvy isa good, Charm., 159C, 161 A, 165 D, 172 D, 174 B, with 
Rep.,50. Cf. infra, p.17. Also Laws, 710, when, even after 
the Republic, it is recognized that cwdpoovvy as the mere 
passive conditio sine qua non of the usefulness of the active 
virtues adoyou atyijs agvov av ein. Again, cf. the association 
of 7a €avtov mpatrew in 161 with the division of labor, and 
Rep., 370 A, 432 A, 434, 443.D. So in the Laches, Nicias is 
driven to admit that the knowledge of things really terrible 
and the reverse is not the property of any craftsman even 
in his own field, but is some higher knowledge of final ends 
which he cannot define —i. e., obviously the ‘political art” 
or the idea of good. 


79 Charm., 160 B, €x ye tovTov tod Aoyov; the obvious de- 
sign of humbling Critias, 162C D; Charmides’s disbelief in 
Socrates’s ignorance, 176 B. Cf. Phadr., 262.D, ws av o 
eidws TO aAnfés mpoomaigwy ev AGyoLs Tapayot TOVs akovovTas, 
Laches’s unfamiliarity with dialectic and the awakening 
effect of the Elenchus upon him; 194A b, 


80 As UEBERWEG says (Untersuchungen, p. 280): ‘Far 
das Verstandniss des Platonismus ist kaum ein anderer 
Irrthum gefahrlicher, als der, eine Zuriickhaltung, die 
Plato aus methodischen Grinden fbte, mit einem Noch- 
nichtsein zu verwechseln.” 


81 Rep., 429C D, 442C. 


141 


16 THE Unity oF Piato’s THOUGHT 





subordination from higher to lower.” It is thus the precondition and obverse aspect 
of justice which is the fulfilment of its own function by each faculty and class—a 
higher than the economic division of labor in the soul and in society.” These defini- 
tions are stated in terms of being rather than of doing, and Plato preferred this form 
But he is careful to add that the one includes the other 
and that the justice within the soul will express itself in Just action.” 

3. These definitions, then, meet the chief difficulties of the minor dialogues and fill 
their place in the literary economy of the Republic. But Plato warns us that they 
It is not enough to define the 
A final definition 
must relate virtue to, and deduce its utility from, an ultimate standard or ideal of 
good.” Such a definition is rather a regulative conception than a practical possibility. 
The Platonic Socrates is always prepared to silence by dialectic or overwhelm by his 
eloquence those who deny that “virtue” is a real good.” 


of statement to the end.“ 


are not the final definitions of a complete philosophy.” 
virtues psychologically on the assumption that their sum is good.” 


But a formal, positive enu- 
meration of the reasons why courage and justice are good and desirable can neyer be 
complete, and will always prove unedifying: ‘‘Does law so analyzed coerce you 
Plato wisely attempts nothing of the kind. He merely describes the dis- 
cipline and education” that will enable his philosophic rulers to prove, if required, the 
coincidence of virtue and happiness, and systematically inculcate efficacious right 
opinion, thus teaching virtue and molding character and institutions in the light of a 


reasoned and unified conception of the true scope and good of individual and public 


much ?” 


82432 A, 442D. This definition is adapted to the literary 
machinery of the Republic. It does not estop Plato from 
employing the word in its normal Greek sense (Rep., 
389 D E, as mAnfec, etc.), or from recognizing that itis a con- 
dition of virtue rather than an active virtue; supra, p. 12. 


83 Allowance once made for the literary schematism of 
the four virtues, the three faculties, and the analogy be- 
tween the man and the state, and account once taken of 
Laws, 696 C, 710, and Politicus, 306 ff., it becomes a little 
naive to complain that the distinction intended between 
cwppoovvn and dixacocvvy is not clear, and a little pedantic 
to institute a learned philological inquiry to ascertain it. 

54 Laws, 864 A, thy 5€ tov apiorov dofav .... 
Tovga ev Wuxais dtaxoony TavTa avépa, Kav apaddAntac Te dixacov 
ev Tay elvat hateov To TavTy mpaxbev, 


85 442 E, 443 A, 


86Grote, followed by many others, denies this. But 
that is because he persists in attributing to Plato the 
doctrine that ethical abstractions (‘‘mixed modes”’) have 
one meaning only which can be expressed in an absolute 
definition; ¢f.supra. But, on the contrary, the very cause 
of the confusion, according to Plato, is that men fail to take 
notice of the different meanings and sub-species covered 
by one generic term (Phedr., 161,162; Euthydem., 277, 278; 
Laws, 837A; Phileb., 12 E ff.; Euthyphro, 7D. with Phedr., 
263B, and Polit., 285E; Polit., 305A). Laches, Nicias, 
Charmides, Critias, discuss the virtues without distin- 
guishing temperament, convention, habit, systematic dis- 
cipline, opinion, and complete insight. They are unable to 
attach any precise meaning to the conventional phrases 


€av avTy Kpa- 


“know thyself’ and ‘‘ minding one’s own business.” There 
is not one temperance or bravery, but three or four. There 
is no incompatibility between this view and Plato’s insist- 
ence on the necessity of the definition and the final unity 
of virtue. If the word has many meanings, the first step 
in rational argument is to define the one intended. And 
the unity of virtue is to be sought, not in a verbal defini- 
tion, but in the unity of the moral life, the idea of good, the 
political art, the oxoros (cf. infra, n. 102). The definition 
is a hypothesis at the beginning, or a stage in the progress 
of the argument (Charm., 163A; Euthyphro, 9D, 11C; 
Pheedr., 237D, opodoyia Oeuevor Gpov, 263D E). It cannot be 
an end, and for this reason dialogues that seek a definition 
fail. This dialectical relativity of the definition, of course, 
does not preclude Plato from arguing that his ideal of the 
moral and social life is better than that of average Athenian 
opinion, and that the definitions which embody it are right 
as against formulas that express some aspect of the tradi- 
tional belief. 

87 Rep., 427, olwac yutv thy moAw... 
elvat, 


. TeAews ayabny 
SnAov by ore gohy 7’ eott Kai avdpeia kat gwppwv Kat 
Sixaia, 

88 Thid., 504 BCD, 505 A, 9 Tov aya8ov idea... 
Kat T’dAAa mpogXpyoapeva Xpyotia Kat wpedcua ylyveTar, 


. W Stxaca 


89 Gorgias; Rep., I. 

% The “longer way,’’ Rep., 504C, is for the guardians, 
not for us who are reading the Republic. See Laws, 964. 
956C. Neglect of this point has caused much misinterpre- 
tation. See Idea of Good, in “ University of Chicago Clas- 
sical Studies,” Vol. I, p. 190. 


142 


PauL SHOREY 17 








life. The attainment of this mastery he poetically describes as the vision of the Idea 
of Good. But it must never be forgotten that all this mysticism culminates in the 
precise and purely logical statement of 534 BC, which affirms little more than Pha- 
drus, 278 C, or than Mill when he says: ‘There is no knowledge, and no assurance 
of right belief, but with him who can both confute the opposite opinion and success- 
fully defend his own against confutation.” Many secondary suggestions attach them- 
selves to the phrase by association with the goodness of God, the universal cause, in 
the Timeus,” the vision of the absolute ideas in the Phedrus and Symposium, the 
fantastic enumeration in the Philebus (66) of the elements of “good” conceived at 
once as an ethical and a cosmical principle.” Its chief logical and ethical significance 
for the Republic has been hopelessly misunderstood, owing to the failure to connect it 
rightly with the problem of the ‘‘good”’ as presented in the minor dialogues.“ In 
these dialogues Socrates repeatedly tests definitions of the virtues by demanding that 
they be related to happiness, the political or royal art, or the good. A virtue by 
hypothesis must be a Kaddv and ayaOdv.” The definitions proposed repeatedly break 
down because Socrates is able to instance cases in which the rule prescribed does not 
conduce to happiness—is not good.” Similarly the rhetorician, the sophist, and 
other pretenders to some supreme knowledge are confounded by Socrates’s demand 
that they shall sharply discriminate their art and science from all merely instrumental 
and technical specialties which effect good or evil according as they are rightly or 
wrongly used, and show its identity with the art of arts, the art of final ends, the 
political art, the good.” 

In some of the minor dialogues the negative dialectic seems to go too far, and 
Socrates makes demands that neither Platonism nor any other doctrine can meet. Thus 
in the Charmides the familiar expression ‘‘ knowing one’s self,” “ knowing one’s limits,” 
“knowing what one can or cannot do,” is made a puzzle by confounding it with the 
psychological question of self-knowledge or self-consciousness, and the fallacy or 
problem about knowing and not knowing the same thing;” and, waiving this point, 
Socrates demands proof that knowing the things one cannot do and intrusting them 
to experts is a good—a fundamental axiom of Platonism.” The explanation is that 
the phrase, like 7a éavtod mpdttew above, is taken externally of adminicular and 


91 Dissertations and Discussions, Vol. IV, p. 283. the “opinion of the best” is treated as a potent cause. 
Finally he identifies the idea of good with God by a sophis- 
tical interpretation of wapamAjova éavte (Tim., 29E) and a 
false construction of (92 B) eixwy rod vonrod (sc. Cwov not Geov, 
cf. 88CD). 


% Meno, 87D; Laches, 192 C, 193 D; Protag., 349 E; Hipp. 


9229 E, ayaGos iv. On the identification of the good with 
God see Idea of Good, pp. 188, 189. 


%3Fantastic because due (1) to the wish to depress 
nSovy to the fifth place; (2) to the neo-Platonic device of 


extending the intelligible hierarchy by the interpolation of 
new members between the highest and the lowest. It 
belongs to rhetoric or religious emotion, then, not to Plato’s 
scientific ethics, 


94. g., one hundred and fifty pages separate ZELLER’S 
treatment of the idea of good (p. 707) from his discussion 
of the ethical good (p. 867). In elucidation of the former 
he quotes little or nothing from the ethical dialogues and 
cites neither Phedo, 99 A, nor any other passage in which 


Maj., 284D; Rep., 332, 333. 

96 See Idea of Good, pp. 200-204, 

9 Euthyd., 282E, 290, 291C; Charm., 1170B; Protag., 
319A; Gorg., 501A B, 503D; Polit., 289C, 293D,309C; Rep., 
428 D. 

98 Cf. Meno, 80E; Euthydem., 286D., Thecetet., 191B, 
196 C. 

99 Cf, Xen., Men., 


2 O4- 
ay oS 


Alc., 1, 117 DE; Laws, 732 A. 


148 


18 THe Unity oF PLATO’s THOUGHT 








mechanical arts and sciences, not as in the Republic, with reference to the division of 
labor or function in the soul and the supreme arts of life and government. To ask 
why Critias is allowed to be baffled for lack of this distinction is to ask why Plato 
wrote short dramatic dialogues at all—why he did not incorporate the fourth book 
of the Republic in the Charmides. So in EHuthydemus, 292 K, the suggestion that 
the good achieved by the possessors of the political art will be the training up of 
successors to know it is treated as a vicious circle or an infinite regress, although, when 
accompanied by the fuller explanations of the Republic, it is evidently in part the true 
Platonic doctrine.” And similarly in the Lysis the theory, virtually repeated in the 
Symposium, that that which is intermediate between good and evil desires the good 
as a remedy against evil, is rejected because it makes the good a mere means to an 
end.’ But the general meaning that emerges from the azropéa of the minor dialogues, 
and the answer to them given in the Republic, is as simple as it is sound. A philo- 
sophic ethics must systematically relate its definitions and prescriptions to some con- 
sistent conception of final ends and good—be it the realization of spiritual health and 
order in a reformed society, the development of personality, the greatest happiness of 
the greatest number, the fulfilment of the will of God, the renunciation of the will to 
live, or the survival of the fittest. The statesman rises above the politician, the 
thinker and artist above the rhetorician, the true teacher above the charlatan, by his 
possession of an aim and a standard, his apprehension of a type of perfection toward 
which all his thoughts, and words, and acts converge.” 

Plato’s own ethical and social conceptions were thus co-ordinated and unified. 
Those of the brilliant sophists and rhetoricians who figure in his pages were not. 
They may have been very estimable and ingenious men. They could not in Plato’s 
judgment be true philosophers, statesmen, or teachers of statesmen, because they 
lacked both the “idea of good” and the synoptic and unifying dialectic required for 
its systematic application in ethics and politics, and in the education of the masses to 
“virtue.” This recognition of the logical significance of the idea of good for the 
Republic and the Socratic dialogues does not commit us to an acceptance of all Plato’s 
social ideals. It does not even require us to admit that the doctrine of the Republic 
really solves all the difficulties suggested by Plato’s “negative dialectic.” But it 
creates the strongest presumption that it was present to his mind when he wrote the 
Laches, Charmides, and Huthydemus. 

Parallel to the quest for the definition of the cardinal virtues leading to the idea 
of good is the study of friendship, love, passion, culminating in the apprehension of 
the idea of beauty at the point where it is hardly to be distinguished from the good.™ 
No complete philosophy can ignore these things. Plato’s reflections upon them have 


100 Cf. Meno, 100 A, olos Kai adAov mornoar rodctixov, etc. 102 Gorg., 503 E, 501 C, 517, 518; Rep., 484C, 500D E, 520C; 
Cf. Rep., 412A B, 4910 D; Laws, 950B ff.; Polit., 309D, rov Laws, 625 E, 630C, 688 B, 693 B, 706 A, 717 A, 733 C D, 962 A. 
Bi, CRORES sie Cx eOe a Ae la ODED Dis enema cere 103 Lysis, 219, 220; Symp., 205 D, 210, 211; Phoedr., 250D ff. ; 
TOUTO avTd éurrovety Tols OpPas pmeTaAaBovar matdeias, which, 5 = ron if aan ears a5 ~itaie 

- Phileb., 64E. viv 8) xaraméhevyev nuty 7 Tod ayabod Sivayus 
however, refers partly to the lower education as well. iS Pi st 
eis THY TOU KaAov pvaw, 
101 Of, Lysis, 218 A, with Symp., 203 EF. 
144 


PAUL SHOREY 





become the commonplaces of the philosophy and poetry of modern Europe: the 
strange antinomy between the love of like for like and the attraction of dissimilars in 
man and nature; the exaltation of character and mood in passionate love and friend- 
ship; the transfiguration of the passion in the love of wsthetic, moral, and intellectual 
beauty ;’" the overloading of the instinct to achieve the ends of nature —the immor- 
tality of the species."" The student of the Lysis, Phadrus, Symposium, Republic, 
and Laws will find it impossible to fix a date at which these ideas first presented 
themselves to Plato’s mind."” The mood, the treatment, the emphasis varies. Some 
of the thoughts are omitted in each dialogue, none are treated in all, and contradic- 
tions and developments may be ‘‘proved” by uncritically pressing the language and 
the imagery. But the differences between the Symposium and Phedrus, both pre- 
sumably works- of the middle period, are as noticeable as those found in any other 
works that touch on the theme. The Symposiwm mentions one idea, the Phedrus 
several; the former ignores immortality and avdyurnots, the latter is one of the chief 
sources for both. The Phedrus ignores the thought that love is the yearning of 
the mortal for immortality, the Symposium virtually omits the doctrine of wavia and 
In the Symposium love is not a god, but a demon; in the Phedrus he 
These and other differences pre- 
On no reasonable theory of 


107 


enthusiasm. 
is Oeds or (to escape explicit contradiction) 7 Getor. 
sent no difficulties to a rational literary interpretation. 
Plato’s development can they signify real changes in Plato’s beliefs in the interval 
between the composition of the two dialogues. 

The Lysis, though a slight Socratic dialogue, displays extreme subtlety of dialec- 
tic," and implies some of the most characteristic thoughts of the Symposium."” The 
failure to establish a formal definition, and the Socratic avowal of ignorance at the 
end prove nothing. There is a plain hint that Menexenus is an “eristic,” and 
Socrates’s treatment of him, so different in tone from the edifying little conversation 
with Lysis, is a mere dramatic illustration of the wAdvy or aopia that results from 
failure to discriminate the different meanings of an ambiguous term. Love, as the 
Phedrus tells us, is such a term — including subordinate and contradictory species."” 
For, as the Laws say, 837 A, dv0 yap dvta ava Kai €& auoiv tpltov ddXo eldos ev dvopa 
trated, the identity of opposites as such, recurs in sub- 
stance in Parmen., 148 A B, and belongs to the same class as 
the quibble on érepov, Euthydem., 301B; Theeetet., 190C; 
Parmen., 147E. Cf. also avouoratov, Phileb., 13D; Par- 
men., 127E, 48 BC. 

109 HY, g., Oe@v ovdeis pidogopet, etc , Symp., 203 E, which 
LUTOSLAWSEI (p. 239) thinks an important new point, in 


advance even of the Cratylus, is “ already” in Lysis, 218 A. 
Zeller, who is “‘unable to suppose” that Plato had ‘al- 


104 Zeller’s theory that Eros is der philosophische Trieb is 
a somewhat rigid and matter-of-fact interpretation of this 
poetry. 

105 Symp., 207D; Laws, 721, 773 E. 

106 Cf. Rep., 402, 403, with Symp., 210C; Rep., 490A B; 
Laws, 688B, ppovnows .... Kai vos cat Sofa met’ Epwros Te 
kai émOuuias; Rep., 499C, with Laws, 711 D, érav Epws Ocios 
Tav gwppovwy Te Kai dSixaiwy emirndevwatwv eyyevntat. Laws, 


841 D, 636 C, mapa piow, with Pheedr., 251A; Laws, 837; 
Gorg., 44D E, generalization of xaAov as in Symp. 

107 LUTOSLAWSEI (p. 242) fails to tell us where avaynvnocs 
is ‘alluded to in the speech of Aristophanes.”’ 

108The conception of eristic, 216A B, arguing to the 
word, not the meaning, is as clear as it is in Rep., 454A, 
or Euthydem., 295 BC, and the fallacy by which it is illus- 


14 


ready ” attained the guiding thoughts of his later system 

(p. 614), argues that in the Lysis the psychological analysis 

is carried as far as is possible on a Socratic basis, but that 

the metaphysical explanation was revealed later. If Plato 

must tell all he knows in every dialogue, why is avauvnacs 

not associated with épws in the Symposium and Republic? 
110 263 C, 265 E. 


5 


20 THE Unity oF Puato’s THOUGHT 





How familiar the two e/6n were to 
Plato appears from the almost technical use of the phrase 6.’ opoidryta piAtav in 
Phedr., 240 C. Menexenus’s bewilderment is precisely on a par with that of Kleinias 
over the two meanings of wavOdve in the Huthydemus.™ Plato is no more confused 
in the one case than in the other. The mood of the Symposiwm and Phedrus is 
compatible with youth or maturity, hardly with old age. The thoughts are naturally 
not repeated in their entirety, but many of them appear in the Republic, or are sug- 
gested elsewhere. They are nowhere contradicted,” and there is no reason to doubt 
that they were essential permanent elements of Plato’s criticism of life. But he was 
not always in the mood to dwell upon them. 

4, In another aspect the Platonic ethics is a polemic against hedonism. This must 
not be confounded with the modern utilitarian controversy. The modern opponent of 
utilitarianism is chiefly concerned to prove that the moral law cannot be deduced from 
experiences of utility, but has an @ priori origin and requires a supernatural sanction. 
Plato does not directly discuss the origin of morality, but he explicitly disclaims the 
necessity of the sanction derived from the hope of immortality,” affirms with great 
emphasis that the useful is the right,"* and bases all virtue on the supremacy of the 
Aoyiottxov or calculating reason.” In the Protagoras Socrates is represented as 
maintaining against Protagoras by purely Benthamite arguments the identity of 
pleasure and the good.” 

The seeming contradiction between this and the anti-hedonism of the Gorgias and 
Philebus demands explanation. It has sometimes been argued that Plato’s own 
opinions on this point were reversed between the composition of the Protagoras and 
that of the Gorgias. Another explanation is that Socrates merely develops a paradox 
for the bewilderment of the Sophist. And it is true that in some parts of the dialogue 
Socrates is obviously jesting,'” and that we are warned against accepting the result 
too seriously by the reminder that both Socrates and Protagoras have maintained 


\ rn > / \ / > / 
TmepiraBov Tacav atropiay Kal oKOTOV amrepyaterar. 


111277 E. 
112 Grote says that in the Theetetus the spectacle of a 
beautiful youth is not required as the indispensable initia- 


116 Protag., 353-8. 


117340 ff. In 341 D, Protagoras, anticipating Philebus, 
12E, and in language suggesting the protest against eristic 


tory stimulus to philosophy. But the Symp., 210C, xav 
ou.xpov avOos xy, and the Rep., 402 D, emphasize the unim- 
portance of the beauty of the body as compared with that 
of the mind. And in the same vein Socrates says, xaAos yap 
el & Ocaitnte ... . 0 yapKadas Aéywv Kadds, etc.,186E. The 
Platonic Socrates is still the épw7xos as he was in the Lysis, 
nor can we suppose that he would ever have found the 
beautiful Meno as helpful an “initiatory stimulus to philos- 
ophy” as the snub-nosed Thestetus. 

113 Rep., 363 BC D, 367 E, 612BC. The Gorgias does not 
differ herein from the Republic, as Ritchie (p. 156) seems to 
think. The argument is complete without the myth, and the 
phrases at the end about living justly in order to prepare 
for the judgment of Minos prove no more than the iva of 
Rep., 621C. . 

114 xaddv, Rep., 457 B. 

115 Rep., 440 E, 571 C, 605 B. 


146 


in Sophist, 259D, points out that (generic) resemblance is 
compatible with difference and even contrariety (cf. also 
Meno, 74D). He does not explain himself fully, however, 
and Socrates, ignoring the point, proceeds to trip him up 
by a fallacious use of the principle that one thing can have 
only one opposite. Whatever the date of the Huthydemus, 
its author was aware that a word used in two senses may 
have two opposites, quite as early as he was capable of 
writing the Protagoras. The passage is merely a dramatic 
illustration of Socrates’s superiority in the game of ques- 
tion and answer. Again in 350B-351A, when it is argued 
that bravery is knowledge because knowledge imparts con- 
fidence, Protagoras points out that we cannot convert the 
universal affirmative proposition, ‘tall bravery is confi- 
dence,’ and distinguishes as bravery the confidence that 
arises from nature and training. Though not a match for 
Socrates, Protagoras is a far better reasoner than Laches 
or Nicias, and again Socrates refutes him only by taking 


PauL SHOREY 21 








theses incompatible with the positions from which they started.'” 
nation lies deeper. 


But the full expla- 
In the Republic Plato undertakes to demonstrate the intrinsic 
desirability of virtue against two forms of disbelief —the explicit skepticism of the 
cynic, who affirms that natural justice is the advantage of the stronger and human 
justice an artificial convention, and the unfaith of the ordinary man, who virtually 
admits this theory by commending justice solely on external and prudential grounds.” 
The Callicles of the Gorgias represents the former view, Gorgias himself and (less 
obviously) Protagoras the latter. Like other Sophists, he is the embodiment of average 
public opinion which his teaching reproduces.” He himself says that all men teach 
virtue. He modestly claims at the most only to teach it a little more effectively and 
persuasively than the layman.™ Plato would admit both assertions, with the reserva- 
tion that the virtue so taught hardly deserves the name, and that the teaching is 
neither systematic nor philosophical. 

The molding power of public opinion, operating through countless social and 
educative agencies, is admirably depicted in the myth attributed to Protagoras, the 
main thought of which is repeated in the Republic.™ There, however, the philosophic 
rulers are to employ this irresistible force for the inculcation, not of average Greek 
opinion, but of Platonic virtue. The Protagoras dramatically illustrates the dialectic 
incapacity and philosophic superficiality of the great popular teacher. His ethical 
teaching is spiritually and logically on a level with the precepts of the worthy sires 
and guardians satirized by Adeimantus.’” However unlike in temper and practical 
effect, it is philosophically akin to the individual hedonism of Callicles and Thrasy- 
machus who reject all morality as an unreal convention. Protagoras is naturally 
unaware of this. Like the populace, he recoils from the naked exposition of the 
principles implied in his preaching and practice. He accepts the terminology of indi- 
vidual hedonism only under compulsion of Socrates’s superior dialectic. But Socrates’s 
explicit challenge to him and the assembled Sophists to name any other final good 
than 7S0v7 is a proof that one of Plato’s objects was to identify the Sophistic ethics 
with hedonism."* But neither this nor the demonstration of Protagoras’s inability 
to cope with Socrates in dialectic exhausts the significance of the dialogue. 

Plato, however reluctantly, always recognized a certain measure of truth in the 
Benthamite analysis here attributed to Socrates. He knew that ‘act we must in 
pursuance of that which (we think) will give us most pleasure.” Even the Gorgias 


contains phrases of utilitarian, if not hedonistic, implication.'” The Eudzmonism of 


up a new line of argument—the identity of pleasure and 
good, and the consequent unity of the virtues in the 
“measuring art.’’ Plato of course was aware here, and in the 
Euthyphro (12), and everywhere, that a universal affirma- 
tive cannot be directly converted. But it isa part of the 
scheme of the dialogue that Protagoras should make some 
good points, though defeated in the end. And Socrates is 
baffled in or fails to complete other proofs of the unity of 
virtue, and so is driven to rely on the proof from hedonism, 
which is the chief feature of the dialogue. 


118 Protag., 361. 


119 Rep., 362 E ff. Cf. ZeuuER, p. 603, n. 1. 

120 Rep., 492 ff. 121 Protag., 328 B. 

122 RITCHIE (p. 156) says: ‘‘The argument of the Sophist 
Protagoras .... is now fully accepted by Plato,” ete., as 
if Plato was not the author of the Protagoras. 

123 Rep., 362 E. 124 354 D, 358 A. 

125499 D. RITCHIE (p. 155) strangely says that in the 
Republic Plato recognizes, in marked advance upon the 


position of the Gorgias, that there are good pleasures as 
well as bad! 


147 


bo 


THe Unity oF PLato’s THOUGHT 





the Republic has often been pointed out,” and in the Laws Plato explicitly declares, 
in language recalling that of the Protagoras, that it is not in human nature to pursue 
But the 
inference which he draws is not that it is safe or desirable to proclaim that pleasure 
is the good, but that it is necessary to demonstrate that the good—the virtuous life — 
is the most pleasurable. 

To a Benthamite this will seem a purely verbal or rhetorical distinction. And 
Aristotle himself hints that Plato’s aversion to the name of pleasure cast a suspicion 
of unreality over his ethical teaching.” But Plato is not alone in his aversion to the 
word. Matthew Arnold acknowledges a similar feeling. And Jowett, in his admirable 
introduction to the Philebus, has once for all set forth the considerations by which 
many clear-headed modern thinkers, who perfectly understand the utilitarian logic and 
accept whatever is true in its psychology, are nevertheless moved to reject its language. 
The Greek word 760v7 is much more closely associated with a low view of happiness 
than the English word ‘‘pleasure;” and Plato had, or thought that he had, much 
stronger reasons than the moderns have, for identifying hedonism with the negation of 
all moral principle. 

The Gorgias and Philebus nowhere explicitly contradict the thesis of the Pro- 
tagoras that a preponderance of pleasure, rightly estimated and abstracted from all 
evil consequences, is good.” The doctrine which they combat is the unqualified iden- 
tification of pleasure and good, coupled with the affirmation that true happiness is to 
be sought by developing and gratifying the appetite for the pleasures of sense and 
ambition.” Plato represents Callicles and Philebus as unable or unwilling to limit 
these propositions even by the qualifications of the Protagoras.” It is he, not they, 
oa * wholesome 
The modern critic may 
object that Plato was not justified in attributing to any contemporaries either this 
dialectical incapacity or this cynical effrontery. Plato thought otherwise. It is a 
question of historical evidence. But it is not legitimate to attribute to the Callicles 
and the Philebus of the dialogues the utilitarianism of Grote or John Stuart Mill, or 
even that of the Proftagoras, and so convict Plato of self-contradiction.” 

With these remarks we may dismiss so much of the Gorgias and Philebus as is 
merely dialectical, dramatic, or rhetorical, directed against the crudest form of hedonism 
which Plato chooses to bring upon the stage before grappling with the problem in 


any course of action that does not promise a favorable balance of pleasure.” 


true and illusive,’ 
135 


who introduces the distinction of pure and impure, 
and unwholesome," necessary and unnecessary pleasures. 


126357 B, nSovat boar aBAaBets goods per se; 457B, 458, 
581 E (with Laws, 732 E), wn ore mpos 70 KaAALov Kal aigxrov Snv 
pnbe TO Xetpov Kal apewvov, aAAa mpos avTO TO NbLvov Kal advroT- 
epov. 

127 Laws, 733, 734; cf. 663 A. 128 Eth. nic., X, 1. 

129 Phileb., 60 A B, is verbally a direct contradiction of 
Protag., 355 B. 

130 Gorg., 495 A, 492 D E; Phileb., 12 A, 12 D, 27E. 

131The verbal identification of 74ovy and ayaéov in 355 
has been preceded by such phrases as xa? 6 nbda éoriv, 351C, 


and the explanation that some painful goods are medicinal 
(354A = Rep., 357C), and is checked by the calculus of all 
consequences, all of which is ignored by Callicles and 
Philebus. 

1382 Phileb., 51, 52. 133 [bid., 86 C ff. 

134 Tbid., 41A; Gorg., 499 D E. 185 Rep., 558 D. 

136 Plato, as Jowett says, is ‘‘ playing both sides of the 
game .... butit is not necessary in order to understand 
him that we should discuss the fairness of his modes of 
proceeding.” 


148 


PAUL SHOREY 23 








earnest.’ The real arguments which he employs, not so much to refute the thesis of 
the Protagoras as to limit its practicable application and justify his repudiation of its 
terminology, may be summed up as follows: The distinction between good and 
bad pleasures once admitted, the statement that pleasure as such is the good, becomes 
an unreal abstraction." The reality is specific kinds of pleasure and the principle of 
distinction, whether intelligence, measure, or the will to obey the ‘opinion of the 
best,”'” becomes more important than the bare name of pleasure, and more nearly 
allied to the good.“” The “measuring art” postulated in the Protagoras is impracti- 
cable. Pleasure and pain are, like confidence and fear, foolish counselors;™ either 
deprives the mind of the sanity required for a just estimate.” No scale of human 
judgment can be trusted to weigh the present against the future, and make allowance 
for all the illusions of memory, hope, and contrast.’ The most intense pleasures and 
pains are associated with a diseased condition of mind and body.‘ And the habit of 
pursuing pleasure, of thinking and speaking of it as the good, tends to make the world 
of sense seem more real than that of thought and spirit.” The contrary is the truth. 
The world of sense is a pale reflex of the world of ideas,“ and the pleasures of 
sense are inherently unreal, illusory, and deceptive, and may in sound logic be termed 
false, as fairly as the erroneous opinions that accompany them.’ They are false 
because composed of hopes and imaginations not destined to be fulfilled; false, 
because exaggerated by the illusions of distance in time or contrast;'” false, because 


137 Phileb., 55 AB, and Gorg., 495 C, 499 B, show that the 
arguments of Gorg., 495 C-499B, are, in the main, a con- 
scious dialectical sport. I recur to this point so often be- 
cause the Gorgias and the first book of the Republic are the 
chief source of the opinion, widely spread by Grote, Mill, 
and Sidgwick, that Plato is a magnificent preacher, but 
often a weak reasoner. Cf. Miu, Diss. and Discuss., IV, 
291: “This great dialogue, full of just thoughts and fine 
observations on human nature,is, in mere argument, one 
of the weakest of Plato’s works.’”’ Cf. Idea of Good, pp. 
213-15. 

138 Phileb., 12 DE. In answer to the question, mas yap 
ndovy ye HSov7 4H OVX OmoLoTaTov av ein; Socrates shows that 
generic (verbal) identity is compatible with specific differ- 
ence or even opposition, a logical principle ‘‘ already” 
glanced at in the Protag., 331 D, with the same illustration 
of wéAav and Aevxov, LUTOSLAWSEI, p. 467, misunderstands 
13 A, TovTw TO Adyw pH TioTEve, TO TavTa Ta EvavTWrTaTa EV 
movovvte — we need not attempt a reconciliation of all con- 
tradictions!” 

139 Pheedr., 237 D, euputos.... émOuuia ndovav.... 
énixtyntos Sofa, epienevn tov apiorov. Cf. Laws, 644.D, 645 A, 
Pheedo, 99 A, vo Soéns hepopeva tod BeAtiotov, 

140 Phileb.,, 64C, 76... 
Heiv TOU waar yeyovevat mpoopiAn THyv ToravTyV dtabeow; with 
the context. 

141 Of. Tim., 69 D, with Laws, 644C, 

142 Rep., 402 E; Phileb., 63D; Phedo, 66B. 


3 Cf, Phileb., 41E ff., with Protag., 356, 357; Gorgias, 
500 A, dp’ oy mavtis avipos eat éxrckag0a, etc. Laws, 663 B, 


. Madvor’ aitcov elvac Sofevey av 


oxoTod.viay dé TO TOppwHev Opwmevov Madi TE Ws EmOS EiTEW . . . . 
mapexer, and the rhetorical repudiation of the whole hedo- 
nistic calculus, Phedo, 69 A B. 


144 Phileb., 45 B-E, €v tive movnpia Wuxns Kai TOD TwpuaTos 
. » MeytoTat pev Hdovat, etc. 

145 Cf, Pheedo, 83 D, with JAMEs’s Psychology, Vol. IT, p. 
306: ‘‘ Among all sensations, the most belief-compelling are 
those productive of pleasure or pain.” 

146 Rep., 509, 510, 514 ff., the allegory of the cave. 

147 Phileb., 36 C ff. As Berkeley and Huxley argue from 
the subjectivity of pain to that of sensations and ideas; as 
Epicurus proceeds from the reality of pain to that of the 
other secondary qualities; so, reversing the order, Plato 
infers the falsity of pleasures and pains from that of the 
associated perceptions and beliefs. Grote, Jowett, Horn, 
and others pronounce the whole train of reasoning falla- 
cious. But it is to be observed: (1) that their objections 
as usual are anticipated by Plato (Phileb., 383A), who hasa 
right to use his own terminology provided his meaning is 
unambiguous (Charmides, 163D); (2) that the epithet 
‘false’? is used either with reference to a postulated objec- 
tive judgment of life as a whole, or as a mere rhetorical 
expression of the disdain or pity felt by an onlooker. In 
the first sense it is justified by the argument, in the second 
by the usage of the poets—falsa licet cupidus deponat 
gaudia livor (Propert., 1, 8, 29); (3) having demonstrated 
against Sophistic negations that wWevdys applies to doéa, 
Plato was naturally tempted to extend it to 7éov7. 

148 Phileb., 39E,40C. Cf. “we are all imaginative, for 
images are the brood of desire” (George Eliot). 


149 Tbid., 41, 42B; Laws, 663 B. 


149 


24. Tue Unity or Puato’s THOUGHT 








what we mistake for positive pleasure is usually the neutral state, the absence of 
uneasiness, the cessation of pain.’” 

This doctrine of the negativity of what men call pleasure is the fundamental basis 
of Plato’s ethics, as it is of Schopenhauer’s. On this, in the last instance, rests his 
refutation of hedonism, and, as we shall see, his demonstration that virtue and happi- 
ness are one."” Sensuous pleasures are in their nature impure and illusory. They are 
preconditioned by, and mixed with, desire, want, pain. “Surgit amari aliquid” is ever 
true of them. They are the relief of an uneasiness, the scratching of an itch, the 
filling of a vacuum.’” To treat them as real, or to make them one’s aim (except so 
far as our human estate requires), is to seek happiness in a process rather than a 
state,’ in becoming rather than in being. It is to bind one’s self to the wheel of 
Ixion and pour water into the bottomless jar of the Danaids.™ Far happier, far more 
pleasurable, is the life that consistently aims at few and calm pleasures, to which the 
sensualist would hardly give the name, a life which he would regard as torpor or 
death.’” 

Both the physiology and the psychology of this doctrine have been impugned. 
It has been argued that, up to the point of fatigue, the action of healthy nerves involves 
no pain, and must yield a surplus of positive sensuous pleasure. It is urged that the 
present uneasiness of appetite is normally more than counterbalanced by the anticipa- 
tion of immediate satisfaction. Such arguments will carry no weight with those who 
accept Plato’s main contention, that the satisfactions of sense and ambition, however 
inevitable, have no real worth, and that to seek our true life in them is to weave and 
unweave the futile web of Penelope. Whatever qualifications modern psychology may 
attach to the doctrine, it is the logical basis of Plato’s ethics. 
tion of the inherent worthlessness of the lower pleasures removes at once the motive 
and lures to evil.’ It is the chief link in the proof that virtue is happiness. It 
insures the domination of reason over feeling and appetite. It molds man into that 
likeness to the divine pattern which is Plato’s favorite expression for the ethical ideal,’ 
for the divine life knows neither pleasure nor pain.’* It is the serious argument that 


The unfeigned recogni- 


some moderns, that pleasure is not strictly =xivyois is 
beside the point. 


150 Phileb., 42 C ff.; Rep., 583 D. 


151 The argument that pleasure is yeveots, not ovaia, is 
not, as ZELLER says (p. 604), the nerve of the proof, It is 
obviously, as the language of 53C implies, one of those half- 
serious metaphysical and rhetorical confirmations used to 


154 Gorg., 493B, terpnuévos midos, etc.; Phaedo, 84A, 
avyvutov Epyov . . . . InveAdrns —iorov, Gorg., 507E; Phileb., 
54 E. 


make a strong case where Plato’s feelings are enlisted. It 
does not oceur explicitly in the Republic which speaks, how- 
ever, of pleasure as xivyots, 583 E. 

152**Already”’ in the Gorgias, 493E, 494C, and the 
Pheedrus, 258 E, Sv rpoAurnOjvac det 7 wnde noOnvar, etc.; Rep., 
584A B. It has even been argued that the Phaedrus passage 
takes for granted the fuller discussion of the Philebus (W. 
H. THompson, Pheedrus, ad loc.). And why not? Anything 
may be argued if the dialogues are supposed to grow out of 
one another and not out of Plato's mind, 


153 Phileb., 53Cf¥.; 54E virtually =Gorg., 493E. The 
literal-minded objection of ARISTOTLE, Eth. Nic., X, 4, and 


155 Pheedo, 64B; Gorg., 492 E; Phileb., 54E, cat hace ony 
ovx av befac8a, etc, In Laws, 733, 734 B, the hedonistic caleu- 
lus of the Protagoras is retained, but is applied not directly 
to the individual acts, but to types of life. The life of 
moderate pleasures is a priori the more pleasurable 
because it necessarily yields a more favorable balance 
than the life of intense pleasures. 


156 Pheedo, 66C; Rep., 586 A B, 588. 


157 Thecetet., 176 B ff.; Laws, 716D, 728A B; Rep., 352 B, 
612 E; Phileb., 391 E. 


158 Phileb., 33 B. 


150 


PauL SHOREY 25 





explains Plato’s repudiation of the hedonistic formulas of the Protagoras, and justifies 
the noble anti-hedonistic rhetoric of the Gorgias, the Phado, and the Philebus.” 

4, Plato’s insistence on the necessity of proving the coincidence of virtue and 
happiness marks another difference between him and modern writers. The question 
is rarely put in the forefront of modern ethical discussion, except for the polemical 
purpose of proving that an opponent’s philosophy supplies no basis or sanction for 
morality. The majority of modern ethical writers relegate the problem to a digression 
or a footnote. They are content to establish a “general tendency” or “strong proba- 
bility.’ Or they frankly admit that while everybody would be glad if the proposition 
could be proved, it is not susceptible of mathematical demonstration. But this was 
not enough for Plato, His own faith was adamantine.“’ He was as certain that hap- 
piness is inseparable from virtue as of the existence™ of the Island of Crete. 
Even if it were only a probability, he would not permit it to be impugned in a well- 
ordered state." Just how much positively immoral and cynical philosophy was cur- 
rent in Plato’s day is, as we have seen, a disputed historical question. But Plato 
himself was haunted by the thought of the unscrupulous skeptic who sought to justify 
his own practice by appeals to the law of nature or theories of the origin of justice in a 
conspiracy of the weak against the strong."” His imagination was beset by the picture 
of some brilliant young Alcibiades standing at the crossways of life and debating in 
his mind whether his best chance of happiness lay in accepting the conventional moral 
law that serves to police the vulgar or in giving rein to the instincts and appetites of 
his own stronger nature." To confute the one, to convince the other, became to him 
the main problem of moral philosophy. It is a chief duty of the rulers in the Republic 
and the Laws, and the Socrates of the dialogues is at all times ready and equipped to 
undertake it. 

Plato is not always overnice in the arguments by which the skeptic is refuted. It 
is enough that the “wicked” should not have the best of the argument.” Socrates in 
the first instance puts forth just enough dialectical strength to baffle a Callicles or a 
Thrasymachus."* This, as we have seen, is the quality of much of the argument of 
the Gorgias," though it is intermingled with hints of deeper things, and supplemented 


159 Gorg., 507,512,513; Phedo, 69; Phileb., 664A ; Rep., 580 B, 

160 Gorgias, 509A; Rep., 360 B, 618 A. 

161 Laws, 662 B. 

162 Rep., 392A B; Laws, 663 B, mOavos y’, ei undev Erepov, 
mpos TO Tiva eBeAety Cyv TOY OaLov Kai Sixacov Biov, 

163 Rep., 358, 359, 365; Gorg., 483ff. Cf. Rep., 358C, 
ScarePpvAnpévos ta wta; Protag., 3383 C, émet moddoi ye pact; 
Buthydem., 279 B, iows yap av rs Hucy audioBytnoece ; Phileb., 
66E; Gorg., 511B; Laws, 889DE, with Theetet., 177C D. 

164 Rep., 365 B; Gorg., 510D; Laws, 662 E. 

165 Thecetet., 1736 C D; 177 B, cae  pytopixn exewwy ws 
amopxapaiverat, The whole passage is a description of the 
Gorgias. Cf., 527A, viv &€ opds, ote tpets SvTes Umets, oimep 
goputatoi éote Tav viv “EAAnvwry . . . . ovK ExeTe amodei~a, etc. 
Laws, 907 C, #7 rote Aoyo.s ny@vrat Kpatovrtes, etc. 

166 F. g., the argument in Rep., 349, 350, is a mere illus- 


tration of the game of question and answer. Thrasymachus 
sets up the thesis, oi adixoe dpovior cai aya8oi, and Socrates 
forces him to contradict himself. Zeller (p. 752) lists it 
among Plato’s fallacies, 

167 Strictly speaking, Socrates’s dialectic is employed 
merely to force from Callicles the admission that some 
pleasures are bad (449BC; cf. Rep., 505C). From this 
point the argument, abandoning ethical theory, discusses 
social and political ideals at Athens. “Good” is treated as 
distinct from “‘pleasure,”’ as it is in Phedr., 239C. But the 
question whether it may not ultimately prove to be the 
favorable balance of pleasure (Protag.) is not raised. The 
crude identification of the terms is rejected for reasons 
still held valid in the Philebus. Cf. Phileb., 55 B, with 
Gorg.,498C. There is no contradiction. The three dia- 
logues, differing in mood, are logically consistent and sup- 
plement one another. 


151 


26 THE Unity oF PLAto’s THOUGHT 





by noble eloquence. In the Republic, however, Plato undertakes not only to confute 
and silence, but to convince."* The real ground of conviction is the total underlying 
conception of the true nature, harmony, health, and consequent happiness of the soul. 

But the formal proof is summed up in the ninth book in three arguments which, 
as Plato repeatedly tells us, constitute the framework of the whole design." To these, 
in form at least, all other interests of the book are subordinate—the construction of 
the ideal state, the higher philosophical education, the idea of good, the character- 
sketches of degenerate types. The first argument is based on the comparison of the 
individual and the state which runs through the entire work from the second to the 
ninth book. It takes two forms: (1) That of a mere external analogy. As the hap- 
piness of the ideal state is to the misery of the ochlocracy or the tyranny, so is the 
happiness of the well-governed just soul to the wretchedness of the man whose soul is 
the prey of a mob of appetites, or the slave of a ruling passion.” (2) The force of 
this external analogy is derived wholly from the psychological truth that it embodies. 
Unity or factious division, the sovereignty of reason, or the usurpations of passion 
and appetite, harmony or discord, health or disease, as used of the soul, are more 
than mere figures of speech; they are the exact expression of inevitable alternatives 
resting on indisputable psychological facts. The dominance of the higher reason over 
disciplined emotion and controlled appetite is the sole and effective condition at once 
of the unity, harmony, and health of spiritual life which is happiness, and of the 
unswerving fulfilment of obligation which is the external manifestation of justice and 
virtue. To ask whether happiness is compatible with a diseased soul is still more 
absurd than to expect it to dwell in a diseased body. 

The second argument is very brief, and Plato is probably aware that at the best 
it commands assent rather than inspires conviction.’” The three faculties of the soul, 
taken abstractly, yield three types of pleasure—the pleasures of pure intelligence, of 
ambition, and of appetite. Plato assumes that the pleasures of intelligence belong to 
the man in whom the intellect directed toward the good controls the other faculties. 
In other words, he takes for granted the coincidence on the highest plane of intellect 
and virtue which he found in Socrates and which the education of the Republic secures 
in the guardians.“ Now, the advocate of the intellectual and virtuous life has neces- 
sarily had some experience of the pleasures associated with gratified ambition and 
appetite. The ambitious man and the sensuous man know little or nothing of the 
higher order of pleasure. The preference of the “intellectual” for his own type of 
pleasure must be ratified as based on a completer experience. It would be a waste of 
time to cavil on minor fallacies or rhetorical exaggerations with which Plato burdens 
The argument itself is familiar 


175 


the argument in his eagerness to make a strong case. 


168 Rep., 357 A B, 358 B, 367 A B, 367 E. 173 Rep., 580 D ff. 14 Cf, supra, p. 11. 
169369 A B, 892A B, 427D, 445 A, 544A, 15Grote and Mill object that this argument, even if 
110576 C ff. 171442 B, conclusive, is addressed to the wrong point, because the 


aa eTAteG ae ops : Pa ron life supposed is not that of the simple, just man, but that 

Ss a2 gd A, 591 B, 589E; Gorg., 512A, 479B; “already” in of the philosopher But the case of the simple just man is 
Crito, 47D E. met by the main arguments drawn from the order, har- 
152 


PauL SHOREY 27 





enough through its acceptance in substance by John Stuart Mill; who, however, seems 
to think Plato’s use of it fallacious. 
that pleasure is not an objective measurable entity, but a relative individual feeling. 


It has been rejected as a fallacy on the ground 


Again at the limits of human thought we are confronted by an alternative the terms 
of which it is impossible to realize distinctly. Is it better to be a completely con- 
tented pig than a man? But if we waive the claim that the argument is an absolute 
proof, and turn from these unreal abstractions to the facts of life, what Plato affirms is 
simply that it is more pleasurable in the end to develop and foster the capacity for 
the ‘“‘higher”’ pleasures than that for the lower, as is shown by the judgment of those 
who have experienced both. In this less absolute form the argument leans for support 
on that which precedes, and still more on that which follows it. 

In the third place, the lower pleasures as compared with the higher are illusory, 
unreal, and impermanent, and they tend to destroy the healthy balance of faculties 
which is the condition of all true pleasure.” This is a repetition or anticipation '” 
of the theory of the negativity of pleasure which we have already met in the polemic 
against hedonism. 

This completes our sketch of the Platonic ethics. 
ration, myth, things ov« andéotepa axovew, but not within the scope of the present 
study, nor indeed reproducible in any study. For the ethical and religious spirit that 
informs every page of Plato we must go to the master himself. 


The rest is exhortation, inspi- 


II. THEORY OF IDEAS 


Plato’s theory of ideas is (1) primarily a realistic way of speaking of the univer- 
sal; (2) a poetic and mythical extension of this realistic language, by which the uni- 
versal is treated, not only as a thing, but as a thing of beauty and object of desire and 
aspiration; (3) in relation to metaphysics, it is the definite and positive assertion that 
the substantive essences, or rather the objective correlates, of general notions consti- 
tute the ultimate ontological units of reality to which psychological and _ logical 
analysis refer us as the only escape from a Heraclitean or Protagorean philosophy of 
pure relativity. In the first sense the ideas occur throughout the dialogues. It is 
irrational to look for the other forms of the doctrine except when the argument natu- 
rally leads up to them. A Kantian does not expatiate upon the Ding-an-sich in an 
And the statement of the argu- 


mony, and health of the soul, and from the analysis of proximate to these types. 


pleasure. Here Plato is renewing the debate between the ment in the Laws applies to the simple just man, 663C, 
“ philosopher,”’ the sensualist, and the politician begun in a adia.... ék pév adixov Kai Kaxov éavTov Pewpovueva Hoea, 
the Gorgias. He is indulging his feelings in a demonstra- etc., .... Thy 8 adAyPecav Tis Kpicews moTépay Kupwrépav elvac 


paper; moTEpa THY THS XE(povos WuxNS | THY THS BEATiovos, 


176 Rep., 583 B-586 C. 


tion that in the Athens of his day the *‘ philosophic” life 
is a higher and happier type than the life of the politician 
or the sensualist; and he holds that no real reform is pos- 
sible until men can be found who approach political life as 
anecessary, not a desirable, thing, condescending toit from 


177 Zeller thinks it a résumé of the fuller treatment of 
the Philebus. Those who put the Philebus late regard it 


a life which they feel to be higher and more pleasurable 
(cf. Rep., 521B). The form of the argument of the Republic 
is determined by the purpose of contrasting the extreme 
types of the virtuous philosopher and the finished tyrant. 
But it applies to other men in proportion as they ap- 


as a preliminary sketch. The Philebus is probably late, 
as Mill affirmed before Sprachstatistik was conceived. 
But the psychology of pleasure in the two dialogues sup- 
plies no evidence. Cf. infra, ‘*Plato’s Psychology,” and 
Part IT. 


153 


28 THE Unity oF PLato’s THOUGHT 








essay on universal peace. Plato discussed many topics that did not require embellish- 
ment by the mythical description of the idea as type, or the explicit reaffirmation of 
the idea as nowmenon. And the apparent absence of either from a given dialogue 
proves nothing. 

Plato’s fearless and consistent realism is so repugnant to “common sense” that 
modern critics either take it as proof of the naiveté, not to say childishness, of his 
thought, or extenuate the paradox by arguing that he could not have meant it 
seriously and must have abandoned or modified the doctrine in his maturer works. 
All such interpretations spring from a failure to grasp the real character of the meta- 
physical problem and the historical conditions that made Plato adopt and cling to this 
solution. From Heraclitus to John Stuart Mill human thought has always faced the 
alternative of positing an inexplicable and paradoxical nowmenon, or accepting the 
“flowing philosophy.” No system can escape the dilemma. Plato from his youth up 
was alternately fascinated and repelled by the philosophy of Heraclitus. No other 
writer has described so vividly as he the reign of relativity and change in the world 
of phenomena.'* Only by affirming a noumenon could he escape Heracliteanism as 
the ultimate account of (1) being, and (2) cognition.” He chose or found this nowme- 
non in the hypostatized concepts of the human mind, the objects of Socratic inquiry, 
the postulates of the logic he was trying to evolve from the muddle of contemporary 
dialectic, the realities of the world of thought so much more vivid to him than the 
world of sense.” This is the account of the matter given by Aristotle” and con- 
firmed by the dialogues. Except in purely mythical passages, Plato does not attempt 
to describe the ideas any more than Kant describes the Ding-an-sich or Spencer the 
“Unknowable.” He does not tell us what they are, but that they are. And the diffi- 
culties, clearly recognized by Plato, which attach to the doctrine thus rightly limited, 
are precisely those that confront any philosophy that assumes an absolute. 

Plato’s particular selection of the hypostatized concept for his absolute seems 
more paradoxical only because, from the common-sense point of view of a convenient 
but inconsistent conceptualism, we ignore the real philosophical alternative of consist- 
ent nominalism or consistent realism, and forget the historical conditions that forced 
Plato to make his choice. Realism was for Plato not merely the only metaphysical 
alternative to Protagorean relativity; it was the only practicable way of affirming the 
validity of universals and abstract thought. The psychology and logic of modern 
nominalism as gradually worked out by Locke, Berkeley, John Stuart Mill, and 
Taine, did not exist. The modern flowing philosopher can give a plausible account of 

118 Symp., 207 D E; Tim., 43 BC, 44 A B, 52 E, 69 C D; concepts ideas (which he did!) if his starting-point had 


Thecetet., 156 ff. been the hypostatization of the concept, and (which is 

179 Cratyl., 439, 440; Thecetet., 179 ff., 185, 186; Tim., 27D, partly true) that he would not have put forth the paradox 
28A, 49D ff., 51BC. Less directly pertinent are Soph., at all if he had not felt the necessity of positing some 
249B; Cratyl., 386; Phileb., 58 E, with Rep., 533 B. reality beyond the world of sense. This last Apelt confirms 


180I do not mean that Plato said: “Go to, I need 2 by Met., 10406, 27, which, however, proves nothing for Plato, 
noumenon, I will hypostatize the Socratic concepts,” as it merely states a favorite thought of Aristotle. 
which a malicious critic might infer from APELT’S argu- 181 Met., 1, 6, 987a, 29 fF., 1086. 
ment ( Beitrdige, pp. 81-3), that Plato would have made all 


154 


PauL SHOREY 29 





the universal, recognizes the general term as a convenient algebraic symbol, and so 
accepts the old logic as a practical working instrument of thought. But in Plato’s 
time the old logic was still to be created, and the cruder forms of nominalism and 
relativity which he combated blocked the way by captious objections to the normal 
and necessary use of general terms.’ The theory of ideas, then, often appears to be 
mainly, if not merely, an affirmation of the concept apart from explicit insistence on 
any theory of its psychological or ontological nature."* But the main issue is 
unaffected by this fact. Even if he had been acquainted with the analysis of Mill 
and Taine,“ Plato would have continued to ask: Are the good and the beautiful and 
similar essences something or nothing?’ Can everything in the idea be explained as 
the natural product of remembered and associated sensations?”’ Is not man’s power 
of abstraction something different in kind from any faculty possessed by the brute ?™ 
Not all the refinements of the new psychology can disguise the fact that the one 
alternative commits us to the “flowing philosophers,” the other to some form of Pla- 
tonism. For the answer that the “good” and the “beautiful” are only concepts of 
the mind is an evasion which commends itself to common-sense, but which will satisfy 
no serious thinker. If these concepts are the subjective correlates of objective reali- 
ties, we return to the Platonic idea—for Plato, it must be remembered, does not say 
what the ideas are, but only that they are in some sense objective and real.’ If the 
concepts are the natural products of casual associations, accidental eddies in the 
stream of sense, the “flowing philosophy” receives us again.’ Moreover, though this 


182 Phileb., 14D, ofodpa trois Adyos éurddia; 15A, 13 DE; 
Parmen., 135C; Soph., 251BC; Thectet., 157A B, 167A, 
180D; Huthydem., 301A and passim. 


183 Repub., 596A; Pheedr., 249B, though immediately 
followed by avapnvnors; Philebus, 16 D, and all passages that 
describe the true method of generalization and division — 
Pheedr., 265, 266, 270 D ; Soph., 226 C, 235 C, 253; Polit., 285 A; 
Cratyl., 424C; Laws, 894 A, 965 C. 


184To MrIuu (Diss. and Discuss., IV, p. 300) the Platonic 
ideas “are only interesting as the first efforts of original 
and inventive minds to let in light on a dark subject.” 
They belong to the ‘“‘theories which have arisen in in- 
genious minds from an imperfect conception of the pro- 
cesses of abstraction and generalization.”’ But it is not 
really thinkable that the author of the Sophist, Politicus, 
and Phedrus (249 B) did not “understand ”’ the common- 
sense explanation of the universal through abstraction and 0.0'5 
generalization. He rejected it, on the contrary, precisely 7° €7 maow; LUTOSLAWSKI, p. 403, misquotes and mis- 
because he foresaw that, if consistently carried out and interprets this passage. Proressor Rircure, Plato, pp. 


pydév ayadov elvac unde kadov.., 
130 B, Kai cadovd Kai ayadon, etc. 


186 Pheedo, 96 B; Thecetet., 156, 157, 184 D, ei moddAai tives 


€v nuty womep ev Sovpeiors immots aigOycers eyxaOnvrat, aAAa mH 


. wTAnv ev Yuxn. Parmen., 


eis iav tia ideav, cite Wuyxny cite O Te Set KaAety mavTa Ta’Ta 
fuvteive, Tim., 51C, # tadra dmep wai BAécmouev (cf. amep 
opwev, Rep., 515B; Parmen., 130D), dca te adda dia tod 
Twpatos aigbavoneba, ova eat ToLavTHY ExovTa aAyBecav, 


187 Pheedr., 249 B, Set yap avOpwmov Evvrevar Kat’ eldos Acys- 
HeEVvoV, Ex TOAAGY lov aigOjaewy eis Ev Aoyioua EvVaipovmevor, 
tovto b€ eat avaurnors, etc. Cratyl., 399 C, povov ray Onpiwy 
OpAas & avOpwros avOpwros wvonadbn, avalpav & drwrev, 
Pheedo, 75 B, or wavra ra év rails aigOjceaw éxeivov Te opeyerac 
TOU 0 éaTL igor, etc. 


188 Parmen., 132, vonua 5é ovdevos; , . . . SvTos h OvK SvTOS; 


2 » » ~ . 2 2 reel wits, 
eira ovx eldos Extra TovTO TO VOOUMEVOV EV elvat, aet ov TO 


accepted as the final account of the matter, it leads 
straight to Mill’s ultimate philosophy, which he would not 
have on any terms. 

185 Protag., 330 C,  Sitxatcoovvn mpayua te éeotiw H ovdev 
mpayna; Phoedo, 65 D, pauev re elvac Sixacoy airo H ovdev; 76 BE, 
TTA, Kadov Te Kat ayaéov, 100 B, kaddv atro Kad’ ard Kai ayabov. 
Theeetet, 157 D, et gor apeoxer TO my Te elvat GAAG yiyver@at aet 
ayafoy cat xadov, Cratyl., 440 B, ei de... . Eote 5270 Kaddov, 
éore 6 Td ayabov, Sophist, 247A-B, ro ye Suvarév tw mapa- 
yiyverOar Kai amoyiyverOat mavrws elvai te pygovow.... 
ovans obv Sixacoovvns, etc, Phileb., 55 B, mas ovx adoyov éore 


91, 112, 113, recognizes that it is conclusive against con- 
ceptualism. Cf. ZELLER, p. 668. The further objection 
that if the ideas are thoughts and things partake of them, 
things must think, is generally treated as a verbal equivo- 
cation. Cf. Euthydem., 28i1DE. But, for the underlying 
metaphysical problem, see my discussion of Aristotle de 
Anima, 429 b 26 in A, J. P., Vol. XXII, pp. 161 ff. 


189Cf, the characterization of positivism or phenom- 
enalism in Rep., 516C D, xa8opavre ta mapidyta Kat pynuo- 
vevovTt MaAloTa, boa Te TMPOTEpa aU’T@Y Kai VoTepa ewer Kai Gua 


mopeved@ar, Cf. also Phedo, 93 BC; Gorg., 5014 B. 


155 


30 THE Unity oF PLato’s THOUGHT 





point is not explicitly made by Plato, a concept of the mind, even apart from objective 
reference, either is or is not an entity of another than the natural or sensuous order. 
If it is, we are driven back upon Platonism. For, though the Platonic ideas are more 
than thoughts if thoughts are only decaying sense, thoughts, if radically different 
from sensations, become entities that may assume the réle of Platonic ideas, as they 
do in the ultimate philosophy of Aristotle, and in the interpretation of those Pla- 
tonists, ancient and modern, who conceive the ideas as thoughts of God. This is 
not Plato’s doctrine, but only a plausible development of it by those who cannot 
acquiesce in his wise renunciation of systematic dogmatism.” In these matters Plato 
affirms no more than is necessary for his fixed faiths and purposes.” The objective 
reality in some sense of ideas (but no more) was so necessary. That it was a hard 
saying is as well known to him as it is to his critics.“ And he has anticipated their 
objections. But this doctrine, or something equally and similarly paradoxical, was 
and is the sole alternative to a philosophy which he and the majority of his modern 
critics cannot and will not accept. The burden of proof rests heavily, then, on those 
who affirm that at any time he did or could abandon or seriously modify it. A survey 
of the dialogues discovers no evidence in support of such a contention. 

For this purpose the dialogues fall into three (or four) groups: (1) Those that 
are supposed to precede the doctrine; or (2) to lead up to it; (3) those in which it is 
most specifically affirmed or mythically embellished; (4) those in which it is criticised 
or, as some say, abandoned or modified. In the case of the first and fourth group the 
argument is often made to turn upon the meaning to be assigned to eidos, idéa, and 
other terms elsewhere distinctly appropriated to the transcendental idea. We are 
repeatedly warned that the mere use of the words eiéos and id€a is no evidence of the 
transcendental doctrine. This is obvious; but it is equally true that the possibility of 
taking these words in a conceptual sense raises no presumption that they must be taken 
in that sense exclusively and that the doctrine was absent from Plato’s mind at the 
time. Such an assumption is made by modern critics in the interest of theories of 
development, or to free as many dialogues as possible from the distasteful paradox. 
But Plato was always at liberty to use the terminology of the ideas conceptually for 
the practical logical uses of definition and classification—even in the transcendental 
Phedrus.” All Platonic ideas are concepts. It does not follow that they are ever 
in Plato’s intention no more than concepts. And, in any case, the absence of the 
theory from any given dialogue proves no more than does the virtual absence from the 
Laws of all metaphysics, including the “later” theory of ideas. 


190 Cf. infra, Part II, Philebus. 


than the Phedoand Republic; LuTosLAwskKI (pp. 340, 341), 
191 Meno, 86B, cai ta mév ye GAAa ovK av navy Umép TOU 


that it must be later, because, if we interpret rightly, we 
‘soon get quit of the riddle of self-existing ideas ” and per- 
192 Rep., 582 D, 416A; Parmen., 135BC; Phileb.. 15AB; ceive that ‘iééa and el5os are used in a meaning which is 
Tim., 51 CD; infra, p. 3. identical with the idea as conceived by Kant, a necessary 
193 237 C, 249 B, 263 E. Cf. also the loose popular use of concept of reason,’’ Of course, Kant’s ideas of reason are 
clos and idéa 237 D, 238A, 253CD. Natrokp, Hermes, Vol. misapplied here and all Lutoslawski means is “ Begriff,” 
XXXV, p. 409, infers that the Phadrus, ‘‘must” be earlier ‘‘concept.’’ 


156 


Adyou Sucxvpioainny, etc. 


PAUL SHOREY 31 





Premising thus much, we turn to the first group. In the Apology, Crito, Laches, 
Lysis, Charmides, Menexenus, first four books of the Republic," Protagoras,'” and 
(some affirm) the Huthyphro, Gorgias, and EKuthydemus there is no distinct mention 
of the (Platonic) ideas. There was no occasion for it in the Apology, Crito, and 
Menexenus, and little, if any, in the others. The relation of the Lysis, Charmides, 
and Laches to Plato’s mature ethical theories and the subtlety of the Charmides and 
Lysis" make it improbable that they antedate the main tenet of his philosophy. This 
is still more obvious in the case of the Menexenus (387 (?), et. 40)."" The realistic 
language used of the definition in the Huthyphro must be presumed to imply what a 
similar terminology does elsewhere."* The joke about wapovo/a in the Huthydemus is 
a distinct and familiar allusion to the Platonic idea of beauty."” Had Plato omitted 
that jest, the absence of the doctrine would prove no more than it does in the case of 
the Protagoras. 

More interesting than this balancing of probabilities is the evidence presented by 
the Gorgias. This magnificent composition may or may not be earlier than the Meno, 
Phedo, Euthydemus, and Cratylus. It is certainly not appreciably less mature. It 
distinguishes and classifies “ideas” in the manner rather of the “later” dialogues,” 
and although it contains no explicit and obvious mention of the transcendental idea,” 
the doctrine is clearly suggested for all readers who look below the surface. It is 
worth while to dwell upon the point. In the Cratylus, 389C, employing the termi- 
nology of the ideas in the manner of Republic, 596 A B, 597 B,"’ Socrates says that 
the workman who makes a tool puts into the material, the iron, the idea of the tool 
that exists in nature.”’ Similarly in Republic, 500 D, the philosopher statesman puts 


194402 C and 437, 438, presumably imply the ideas, but —_etc., see my remarksin A. J. P., Vol. IX, No.3, p. 287.) More- 
could be taken merely of concepts, classes or species. Not over, Plato never affirmed the presence absolutely of the 
so 585 in Book IX. Pfleiderer therefore, in order to elimi- idea with or in the particular (Parmen., 131A B; Phileb., 
nate the ideas from Books VIII and IX, pronounces 580 B- 15B), but only its presence or communication somehow. 


588 A a later addition. The tt of kaAAos 7 expresses this and Socrates’s embarrass- 
1% But cf. 330C, 7 Sueaoovvn mpayud te eorw % ovdey ment very well. Cf. Phado, 100D, etre mapovoia ire Kowwvia 

mpayna; 349B, 7 exaoTw TOY Ovo“aTwY TOUTWY UTOKELTAL TLS idLOS cite Or 59 Kai Orws mpocyevouery, So Symp., 211 B, weréxovra 

ovcia Kat mpayyna €xov éavtov Sivauty Exagtov; 330 E, ait 7 Tpomov Twa ToLovTOY, etc. 

oovorys. 200 JowErT, Vol. IV, p. 436: ‘t The same love of divisions 
196 Of, supra, n. 108. is apparent in the Gorgias.” Cf. 454, 455 A, in manner of 
WuWAlaniowitelhasmisomenherondeniadaitham Platonic the Sophist. Cf. 464, 465. It could be plausibly argued that 

authorship of the Menexenus, but he may have a “pec- the definition of rhetoric moActixjs poptov eidwAov (463D) as 


leavin reserve. | Life is’short to debate such paradoxes; explained in 464, 465, is a fullerand more explicit statement 
but if any athetizer will stake his reputation on the point, of the doctrine of Politicus, 291 B and 303 E-304 A, as to the 


Baxoiuny av révrwv Hdiora évi TOvTwV, difficulty of distinguishing the statesman from his imita- 
i : tors and the true relation of pnropeia to Sixaorixy and 
W85D, tavrov.... abto adte, etc.; 6DE, tev moAAOY — BagirrKy), 
ociwv (cf. Pheedo, 78D, ri 5€ tov moAA@v Kadav; Rep., 596 A, 
7 A aire = . Aero 2 201 7. D brow: + 70 5 ; 5 
eldos.... &¥... . mepi Exagta Ta TOAAG) —avTO TO Eidos @, ith isin pak De Benak ieee a ae ze ree re 
ete. (Pheedo, 100D, 1r@ cada; Meno, 72C, év yé te elS0s 2. with Rep., 19D, ra aD. WéAAwy rOAAG vdptpa, etc.; Gorg., 
6.6), amoBAerwv . . . . mapadetypate, 497 E, mapovoia ... . ols av KaAAos map). 
; : “ 202 ¢ r as THy tbe Sc ONCE 
199301A. It is not the word mapeore that proves this, ; Y eit «.«» Mpas Thy idéav BAerwv n ev TY 
but the entire context érepa avrod ye Tov xadod, ete. Lutos- Pur! oboe (xAtwn). 
LAWSEI (p. 212) affirms that Plato ‘‘ would have said later 203On this passage as the chief Platonic source of the 


mapeott Td KdAAOS (avTo Kad’ avTd).”” Heneverdid say, nor Aristotelian doctrine of matter and form see my remarks 
could he have said, anything of thekind. Mdpeor.... in A.J. P., Vol. XXII, No, 2, p. 158. Campbell, overlooking 
ait Kad’ avto he would have felt as a contradiction in this passage, finds in Polit., 288 D, the earliest approach to 
terms. (On the correct and incorrect use of attra a8’ avira, the distinction of matter and form. 


157 


32 Tue Unity oF Puato’s THOUGHT 





into the plastic stuff of human nature the forms or ideas of justice and temperance 
which he contemplates as existing in the transcendental world (éxei), and so becomes 
an artisan of political and popular virtue.”* Expressed in slightly different imagery, 
this is the function of the statesman in the Politicus, 309 C (cf. 308CD). He is to 
implant in those rightly prepared by education, fixed, true opinions concerning the 
honorable, the just, and the good.”” The thought and the imagery belong to Plato’s 
permanent stock. We find them in the Gorgias, 503 E-504 DD.” Here, too, Plato 
conceives the true teacher, artist, or statesman as contemplating ideas or forms, which 
he strives to embody in the material with which he works, even as the Demiurgus of 
the Timeus stamps the ideas upon the matter of generation. 

The origin, first suggestion, exposition, or proof of the theory of ideas is variously 
sought by different critics in the Meno, the Cratylus, the Theeetetus, or even in the 
Pheedrus, Parmenides, and Symposium. Obviously Plato could at any time argue 
indirectly in support of the ideas as necessary postulates of ontology and epistemology. 
Our chief concern is with the hypothesis that the exposition of some particular dia- 
logue marks a date in the development of his own thought. The doctrine of remin- 
iscence is introduced in the Meno to meet an eristic use of a puzzle allied to the 
psychological problem of “recognition.” *” How, if we do not already know, shall 
we recognize a truth or a definition when we have found it?”* Socrates replies that 
the soul has seen all things in its voyagings through eternity, and that all our learning 
here is but recollection.” This theory is confirmed in the case of mathematical ideas 
by Socrates’s success in eliciting by prudent questions a demonstration of the Pythag- 
orean proposition from Meno’s ignorant slave."” The Phedo distinctly refers to this 
argument as a proof of the reality of ideas,’ and the myth in the Phedrus describes 
the ante-natal vision of the pure, colorless, formless, essences of true being.” It fol- 
lows that, though the ideas are not there explicitly mentioned, the reminiscence spoken 
of in the Meno must refer to them.”* But it is extremely improbable that this repre- 
sents Plato’s first apprehension of the doctrine. Psychologically and historically the 
origin of the theory is to be looked for in the hypostatization of the Socratic concept 
and the reaction against Heracliteanism.”* Its association with Pythagoreanism and 


2044 exec Opa pederjoar eis avOpwrwv 70)... . TEvar 207 Meno, 80D ff. Cf. my dissertation De Platonis idea- 
.... Snucovpyov .... cwhpoaivns te Kat Sixatoovvns. Cf. rum doctrina, pp. 15 ff. 
501 B, wuxva av éxatépwoe amoBA€emoev . . . . Kai mpos Exeivo ad 


5 : = . a ner 208 odre GyTeiv ovTe amopety avev mpodnwews, Sext, Empir. 
& év Tois avOpwros eurrovoicev, Cf. Polit., 309D, tovro avro Math..1 oa Pp podnwews, Pp 


€LTOLELY, 

“ 209" L’univers peut dire comme le Dieu de Pascal: ‘Tu 
ne me chercherais pas, si tu ne m’ayais déja trouvé.’ ”’ — 
FOoumLuEE. Cf. Polit.,278D; Tim., 41 E, thy tod ravros piow 

206 amroBAémwy mpos Te... . Omws av eldds TL a’TH aX TOUTO éecke, Cf. infra, p. 43. 

é épyagerat. This is applied first to the body, then to the 21099 fF 

soul. The rafts and xoopnos of the soul is Sexacoovvn and ees 

gwppoocivn. .... Mpos Tata BAétwy, etc. The pytwp ayaéos 273A, 

«ai rexvixos here=the true moActixds, And we may note in 
passing that the Gorgias ‘ already” recognizes that rheto- 


205 This does not refer exclusively to the higher educa- 
tion, as Zeller affirms. 


212 247 f£., 249 C, rovro 5€ ear avanvnats exeivwr, etc, 


ric might be an art. The popular rhetoric isnone because _ Hs The realistic terminology of _the definition would 
it ignores the ideas (1) as ethical ideals (Gorgias), (2) justify the same inference. Cf. 74, 79. 
as the basis of scientific dialectic (Phedrus), 214 Of. supra, p. 28. 


158 


PAUL SHOREY 33 











the ante-natal life of the soul is mythical embellishment; and its application to the 
problem of the a priori element in human knowledge is a secondary confirmation of 
its truth.“ Nevertheless the Meno, which John Stuart Mill pronounces “a little gem,” 
is admirably adapted to serve as an introduction to the Platonic philosophy. It exem- 
plifies in brief compass the Socratic method and the logic of the definition in termi- 
nology that suggests the ideas, touches on higher things in the theory of recollection 
and the problem of a priori knowledge, and clearly resumes the dramatic, ethical, and 
political puazles that prepare for the teaching of the Republic. 
the ideas at the close of the Cratylus as something of which he dreams as an alterna- 
tive to Heracliteanism is taken by some critics to indicate that we have here an intro- 
duction to or a first presentment of the doctrine.”” They overlook two considerations: 
(1) the theory is taken for granted at the beginning of the dialogue, as we have already 
seen ;”" (2) there are no traces of immaturity in the thought of the Cratylus. The 
polemic against the flowing philosophers and the forms of eristic associated with them 
is, in a jesting form, as sharp, and the apprehension of the real issues as distinct as 
it is in the Thectetus and Sophist.”® 

Some scholars look upon the Thectetus as a propedeutic introduction to the 
ideas,”” while others take it as marking the transition to the later theory. Strictly 
speaking, neither view can be correct, since, though the ideas are not often or very 
explicitly mentioned, there is enough to show the presence of the doctrine in its normal 
form. The a@yaOdv and kadov, claimed for being as against becoming in 157 D, is 
almost technical for the affirmation of the ideas.” The mapade(ywata of 176 E can 
hardly refer to anything else. And the close parallel between 186 A B and Republic, 
523, 524, admits no other interpretation. Among the vonrd which the soul grasps by 


Socrates’s mention of 


215 PRorEssoR RITCHIn’s suggestion (Plato, pp. 86, 87) 
that the Platonic idea is a generalization of the Pythag- 
orean treatment of mathematics is unsupported by evi- 
dence. See, however, ZELLER, pp. 654-6, for suggestions 
of other pre-Socratic influences on the theory. 

216So once SUSEMIHL in his Genetische Entwickelung, 
Vol. I, p. 161. LurosLawskI, pp. 224, 225, thinks the ideas 
are not formulated even here, but only a something which 
in later dialogues proves to be the ideas! The terminology 
is complete—eldos, avtd 6 gat, TO puget, mor BAETwy 389, €i SE 
ws €ott Se TOKaAOV, Eat. Se TO ayabov, Eater SE Ev ExagTOV TAY 
évrwy (440 B), All these phrases might conceivably be used 
of notions, conceptual ideas. But this proves too much. 
For, according to L., it holds of all dialogues except the 
Symposium, Phedo, and parts of the Republic, and he is 
not quite sure of them. His real object is to eliminate the 
self-existent idea altogether. 

2170f, supra, p. 31. The doctrine of Cratyl., 389, is 
furthermore identical with that of Repub., 596 A ff. 

218 386, 439, 440. On the uy ov and Wevdys doéa fallacy, 
429 ff., cf. infra, p. 53. On the peovres cf, 411 BC with 
Pheedo, 90C; Phileb., 483A. LurosLAwskI affirms (pp. 366, 
367) that the subdivision of xivyots into dopa and aAdoiwors 
is a new and important discovery of the Thecetetus, 181, C. 
He fails to note that the argument of Cratylus, 339, 340, dis- 


tinctly implies that mavra pet includes qualitative change, 
Cf. 439 D, ore torovrov, 440 A, aAAo Kai addoiov ylyvoiTo..... 
omoov yé ti €otiv. 439 EH, undev eftatayevov THs avtTov ideas (cf. 
Tim., 50B, and Rep., 380D). Cf. the whole context of the 
argument and the use of tretépxerar, Cratyl., 439 D; Thectet., 
182 D. In fact, the association of motion and qualitative 
change was always a commonplace with Plato. Both “ be- 
fore” and “after” the Thecetetus wera8oAy and pevv, etc., are 
used freely in both meanings. Cf. Repub., 380 E ff., which 
alone refutes L.’s ‘‘ discovery.” 
dpiota Exovta HxioTa adAotovTai Te kai Kivectar. The fact that 
the Thectetus is slightly more explicit in formal classifica- 
tion proves nothing. The whole argument of the Cratylus 
passage hinges on the distinction precisely as does the argu- 
ment of the Theetetus. It appears explicitly again only 
in the Parmenides, and not in the “late’’ Philebus and 
Timeus. It is not included in the ten kinds of motionin 
the Laws, 893, 894, and L. finds it only by implication in 
894 E, add’ orav dpa ato alto Kwioayv étepov addowoy which 
is no more explicit than the Cratylus or Republic. 

219W, J. ALEXANDER in Studies Dedicated to Gilder- 


sleeve, p. 179, thinks its teaching to be: knowledge is of the 
ideas, error arises from imperfect avauvyats. 


ovKovv vmod pév aAAov Ta 


220 Supra, n. 185. 


159 


34 THE UNITY OF PLATO’s THOUGHT 








herself,” and whose essence is apprehended through their relation of opposition,” 
are mentioned, after ovc(a, the 6uorov and avopoov, the tadrov and the érepor of the 
Sophist. But also, as in the Parmenides, the ethical ideas, cadov, aicypov, ayabor, 
and «axev;** and lastly, as in the Republic, the qualities of sense, o«Anpov and wadaxev,”* 
The actual sensation of these opposites comes of course through sense. But the ovota 
and the 6 7 éorév, as in the Republic, is apprehended by the mind as an idea. There is 
no argument for holding these ideas to be mere concepts that would not prove the same 
for the Republic, which of course is impossible.” This point established, we may 
concede that the Theetetus may be, not an introduction to the ideas, but an indirect 
argument in support of the familiar doctrine. The polemic against Heraclitus is 
always that.“” And, though Plato himself may not be aware of it, the statement that 
the syllable is not the sum of its elements, but uéa idéa apépiotos, embodies the prin- 
ciple and justification of a realistic logic.” The conceptual whole is not the sum of 
its parts, but a new entity and unity.™ 

What has been said of the Theetetus applies to Zeller’s theory” that the second 
part of the Parmenides is an indirect argument for the ideas. That this is not the 
main purpose of the Parmenides will appear in the sequel. And Zeller was mistaken 
in stating that only relative contradictions followed from the being of the one, while 
absolute contradictions resulted from its not being. But the Platonic idea is always 
suggested by the antithesis of the one and the many. And in the eighth hypothesis, 
164 Bff., the “one” and “others” are no longer treated with dialectical impartiality, 
but there is a hint that the one may be regarded as the symbol of the idea. Symme- 
try leads us to expect the argument that, if the one is not (relative 4 6v), other things 
both are and are not all contradictory predicates. Instead of ‘‘are”’ we find “appear” 
or “seem.” Other things are indefinite bulks that break up under inspection and 
only seem to partake of unity and other predicates that derive from unity. These 
oyxou certainly suggest the world of matter uninformed by ideas, the “being” of the 
materialists which the friends of ideas in the Sophist call “ becoming” and break up 
into little bits.“ And the statement that, as they cannot be other than the (non- 


existent) one, they are the other of one another, reminds us of a@Arrow oup- 


2QWaith n wvxyn 186B. Cf. 187A; Phedo, 65C; Rep., 524 
BC, 526 B. 

222 phy evavTioTyTa mpos aAAnAw, Cf. Rep., 524 D, a pev eis 
Thy aigOnow dua Tois evavtios eavTois éumimrer. Mr. Henry 
Jackson and others confound this special use of mpos aAAnAa 
with ta mpos 7, relative terms generally, by the aid of Par- 
men.,133C. The Theetetus passage is the source of Her- 
modorus’s distinction of pos érepa into mpos evavtia and mpos 
7, which ZELLER (p. 706) says is not found in Plato. 

223130 B after onovorns. 

224186 B with Rep., 524A. 

225 THOMPSON on Meno, 74. D,says that problems which 
in Phileb., 14D, are dednuevméva are made the bases of a 
dialectical course in Rep., 523-6. This is a misapprehen- 
sion. The Republic mentions (525A) that the same object 
is perceived as one and many. It does not sport with the 


paradox, but passes on to show how mathematics leads 
the mind to the apprehension of abstract and ideal unity. 
Philebus, 14 D ff., is concerned with logical method; Rep., 
523-6, with psychology and education. But the thought of 
the Republic is not less mature, and is, indeed, repeated in 
Phileb., 56 E =Rep., 525 D E. 


226 obSev elvat Ev avd xa’ avto, ete. 157A is the diametri- 
cal opposite of the ideas—elvai re Kaddv alto Kad’ aro, 
Pheedo, 100B. 

227 205 C, 203 E. 

228 Of, Parmen., 157 D, ox apa tav moAA@y ovdé mavTwy Td 
OpLOV WOpLov, GAAG pLLas TLVOdS idéas Kal Evds TLVOS 6 KaAOUMEV DAOV. 
See also A. J. P., Vol. XXII, No. 2, p. 158. 

229Set forth in his Platonic Studies and the earlier edi- 
tions of his History, but now virtually withdrawn. 


230 Soph., 246 B.C. 


160 


PauLt SHOREY 35 











dedéc0a in the theory of pure relativity in Theetetus, 160 B. Similar hints occur in 
the fourth hypothesis, 157 B, which deals with @\Aa@ on the supposition that the one 
is." The main conclusion that adda, then, admit all contradictory predicates is indi- 
cated very briefly (159 A). What is emphasized is the fact that aAAa per se are 
TAHOn . . . . €v ols TO ev ov Eu, that they are drepa (cf. Phileb.); that it is the one 
which introduces mépas mpos a\Anda; and that, having parts, these parts must relate 
While the main object of the 
Parmenides, then, is to illustrate the communion of ideas and the doctrine of relative 
év and p») év set forth in the Sophist, there is a suggestion of polemic here and there 
directed against the infinite and indefinite world without unity of the materialists, 
relativists, and deniers of the ideas. But obviously the first origin and exposition of 
the ideas is not to be sought in a work that deals with problems and difficulties arising 
from the doctrine.” 

The Phedo, Phedrus, Republic, and Symposium, the dialogues that are fullest 
in explicit affirmation or mythical embellishment of the transcendental idea, need not 
here detain us long. In his exaltation of pure thought and the dialectical method 
Plato clothes the ideas in all the contradictory attributes of a sensuous, esthetic type, 
an ethical ideal, and a metaphysical nowmenon. He is perfectly aware of this, and the 
inconsistency is common to all philosophies of the absolute." In the Phedrus as 
elsewhere he warns us not to take the myth too seriously.” In the Phedo he 
describes the doctrine as familiar,“ and reminds us that he does not insist upon the 
precise terminology, but only on the central fact.’ In the Republic every termi- 
nology is employed from the most naive to the most severely logical or the most 
transcendental.** Despite these facts, attempts have been made to extract evidences 
of contradiction or development from the varying imagery and terminology of these 
dialogues. The unity of the Republic has been broken up and its books variously 
dated according to the absence of the theory, or its presence in an “earlier” or 
“later” form. It has even been gravely argued in defiance of all psychological and 
historical probability that the Symposium, which in consonance with its theme men- 
tions the idea of beauty only, represents a stage of development in which the Platonic 


to puds tuvds iddas Kal Eves TLVOS, 6 KaXodpEV OXov.”* 


Socratic ethical concepts, not Platonic ideas, is refuted by 
the context (7 Tovav’tyn ovaia .. . . avahepery Ta ev Tais aiaOn- 
geot, etc.). The suggestion that the reference is to con- 
versations abandons the whole case, unless they are limited 
to the interval between the Meno and the Phado! The 
simple truth is that Plato may at any time refer to any 
part of his permanent beliefs as familiar doctrine. On the 
theory of development, to what discussions is reference 
made in Crito, 46D, and 49AB? To the Gorgias and Re- 
public 1? Where has Plato often said that 7a ra avrod 
mpartev is Sixavoovvn ? (Rep., 433A). Where has Glaucon 
heard ov« oAcyaxts that the idea of good is the weyiorov 
pwadnua 7 (Rep., 504 E). 


237100 D. 


251 Relative ov admitting xowwria, 

232 Thecetet., 203, 204. 

233 Of, infra, Part II. 

234 JOWETT’S common-sense and literary tact have an- 
swered literal-minded objectors once for all: ‘‘ When the 
charioteers and their steeds stand upon the dome of heaven 
they behold the intangible, invisible essences which are 
not objects of sight. This is because the force of language 
can no further go.”—Vol. I, p. 412. 


235 265 C, ta Mev GAA Te SvTe mardia memaicbar, 


236 Those who think that the ideas have been men- 
tioned in only one preceding dialogue, as the Meno or Sym- 
posium, are much exercised by the @apua A€yevv of 72 EF, the 


4 OpvAovmer act of 76 D, and the moAvépvAnra of 100B, Lutos- 
LAWSEI'S statement (p. 292) that these terms may refer to 


238596, 597, 585, 534, 532, 514-17, 505-11, 500 D-501 B, 490 B, 
485 B, 476-80, 


161 


36 Tuer Unity oF PLato’s THOUGHT 





philosophy contained but one transcendental idea, as if the problems of psychology 
and ontology which the theory of ideas sought to meet or evade could have been in 
any wise advanced by the hypostatization of one concept! We have glanced at such 
methods of reasoning already, and shall meet them again. At present we pass on to 
the hypothesis that the Parmenides contains a criticism of the ideas which leads to 
the abandonment or transformation of the theory in the fourth and latest group of 
dialogues. This hypothesis rests on the assumption that the criticism of the Parmen- 
ides is new, that Plato was bound either to answer it or give up the ideas, and that, 
as a matter of fact, the transcendental idea is not found in the later dialogues. These 
assumptions will not bear critical examination. 

The objections brought forth against the ideas in the Parmenides are obvious 
enough, and, as Jowett says, are unanswerable by anybody who separates the phe- 
nomenal from the real. How can we bring the absolute into intelligible relation with 
the relative? How can the absolute (“the Gods”’) take cognizance of us or we appre- 
hend what is adapted to their thought?*’ How can we without self-contradiction 
apply to it unity or plurality, or any other predicate of human knowledge?*” More 
specifically, if the ideas are transcendental unities, how can we predicate multiplicity 
or parts of them as wo must to connect them with one another and with phenomena?™ 
How shall we interpret the figurative expressions that the ideas are present in things, or 
that things participate in or imitate the ideas?’ If the idea is the postulated corre- 
late of every idem in multis, why should we not assume an idea to explain the likeness 
of the idea and the particular, and so on in infinite regression?“’ To what extent the 
form of these objections is due to contemporary critics, or the misunderstanding of 
students, or the precocity of Aristotle, is an unprofitable inquiry. Their substance is 
in the Republic, not to speak of the Phado, the Huthydemus, the Timawus, and 
Philebus.“* Their presentation in the Parmenides, then, does not mark a crisis in 
Plato’s thought calling for a review of his chief article of philosophic faith. Plato 
does not and cannot answer them, but he evidently does not take them very seriously,” 
though he admits that it would require a marvelous man to sift and analyze them all.*° 
They arise from the limitations of our finite minds.“” Here as in the Philebus he 
bids us disregard them, and proceed on the assumption of ideas to find the one idea 


239 Parmen., 134. 

240 Soph., 244, 245; Parmen., 142A; Tim., 37E, 38 A. 
241 Parmen., 131; Phileb., 15 B. 

242 Parmen., 131 A, 132 D. 243132 A, 132 E. 


244 Rep., 476 A, aio pév tv Exacrov elvat, ry 5é Tov mpatewy 


Sophist, only because pedants were obstructing the way of 
logic by denying it. Similarly the tpitos av@pwros is dis- 
tinctly implied in Republic, 597C, and Tim., 381A, as the 
difficulty of giving a precise meaning to mapovoia is in 
Euthydemus, 301 A, and Pheedo, 100 D. 

245 Phileb., 15 DE. In Sophist 251 BC, the reference is 
Kal TwWLaTwV Kal GAAjAwY Kowwvia ,.. . TOAAa haivedBar ExagTov, to the one and many in things, but the application to the 
Cf. Phileb., 15 B; Parmen., 144E. Some ignore this pas- communion of ideas immediately follows. 
sage. Others wantonly emend it, as BADHAM, who reads ar . 
Gn dAAwv, and BYWATER, who reads aad’ dAdwv (Journal 248 Parmen., 135 A B, 

247 Tim., 52 BC, 34C; Phileb., 15D, tav Acyow . . . 


of Phil., Vol. V, p. 122). Rirrcuts (Plato, 96) takes itin a 
Pickwickian sense in order to avoid ‘anticipating the 7a0os év yuiv. The Sophist does not really contradict Tim., 
388A B. Absolutely 6v and «y ov remain a mystery (251A, 


Sophist,”” PFLEIDERER uses it to prove that the fifth book of 
the Republic is laterthan thetenth, Anything rather than 251 D, 254C). The Sophist merely fixes the practically 


admit the obvious fact that Plato always recognized the 
“communion’’ of ideas, and argued it at length in the 


necessary conventions of logical discourse about them — 
tov Adyov, év Tots map’ Huiv Adyas, etc,, 251 A, 251 D. 


162 


PAUL SHOREY 37 











and enumerate all its species.” 
sequences." 

The text of the Parmenides does not bear out the assertion that the objections 
apply to any special form of the theory or can be met by a change of terminology. 
The suggestion that there may be some classes of concepts to which no idea corre- 
sponds is repudiated for good Platonic reasons.” The interpretation that the ideas 
are to be henceforth merely concepts is distinctly rejected, was a prior? impossible for 
Plato, and is refuted by the positive affirmation of their objectivity in the Timaus.”' 
Socrates’s explanation that the ideas are wapade(yuata, patterns of which phenomena 
are likenesses, is nothing new. The terminology of pattern, copy, and artist looking 
off to his model is familiar throughout the “early” dialogues, whether used of the 
definition or the idea. There is no hint in the corresponding passages of the Philebus 
that such a variation of terminology could in any way affect the problem. It is not 
proposed in the Parmenides as a new doctrine, but merely as a different metaphor to 
evade the difficulty found in the literal interpretation of peréyerv—it is a mere gloss 


The hypothesis must be judged by its total con- 


upon the meaning of peréxeuv. 
of putting it. 


But equally formidable difficulties confront this way 
And there is no systematic change of terminology in the “later”’ 


dialogues, which, like the earlier, employ in a purely natural and non-technical way the 
various synonyms and metaphors which Plato used to express the inexpressible.”* 
The challenge to find the ideas in dialogues “later” than the Parmenides is easily 


met. 


Nothing can be more explicit than the Timeus.™ 


The alternative is distinctly 


proposed: are the objects of sense the only realities and is the supposition of ideas 


mere talk ?”° 
opinion and science. 


248135 BC, Phileb., 16D. Cf. Phedr., 270 D, éav S€ mAciw 
eid ExN TavTa aprOunoamevovs. Laws, 894A, ev eideoe AaBeww 
Mer’ apiOnon, 

249 Parmen., 136; Pheedo, 101 D. 


250130D. See ZELLER, 700, 701, for lists of ideas, But, 
as we have seen, to admit that there is any conceptual 
unity not referable to an idea is to make the theory a mere 
play of fancy, and deprive it of all psychological and onto- 
logical meaning. 

2151C. Cf. supra, n. 188. 

252The tpitos av@pwros is repeated in 132DE. Other 
difficulties follow, and the final summing up, 135A, is 
couched in the most general terminology: et eioww aitat ai 
iS€at TOY GvTwY Kal OpLEtTai Tis a’TO Te Exagrov eldos. There is 
no suggestion that a new form or terminology makes any 
difference. The much misunderstood passage, 133C D, is 
merely a special application of the general difficulty to 
relative terms. Ideal slavery is related only to ideal 
ownership, the slavery in us only to the ownership in us. 
There is no discrimination here of a class of attra xa’ aita 
edn. (Cf. A. J. P., Vol. IX. p. 287). Nor are there, as JowETT 
and CAMPBELL affirm (Republic, Vol. II, p. 313, n. 1) two 
stages (1) opuoiwors and (2) mebetts Tod omowmartos in the 
descent from the ,ideas to the individuals. omorpmara and 
weréxovres are merely twosides of the same fact—the par- 
ticipation somehow (cite ory 59 Tis avra Ti8erar) of the particu- 


And it is affirmed that their reality is as certain as the distinction between 
They are voovpeva and exist Ka” avra.”” 


There is no hint that 


lar in the idea. The ofowwpara are no more separable as 
an intermediate stage than are ra eiodvta Kai éfidvta Tov 
OvTwy act wimnuata of Timceus, 50C. In both cases we have 
only the idea and the particular and the metaphorical 
expression of their relation. 


253 See my note in A. J. P., Vol. X, No.1, p.66. ZELLER, 
Sitzungsber. d. Berl. Akad., 1887, No. 13. 

25451, 52. 

25551 C, 76 5€ obdév ap’ Hv mAnv Adyos. For the impossi- 
bility of taking Adyos as ‘‘ Socratic concept” see my note in 
A. J. P., Vol. X, v. 65. 

256 Mr. ARCHER-HIND’s attempt (Jour. of Phil., Vol. 
XXIV, pp. 49 ff.) to ‘circumvent’ this passage is based on a 
misinterpretation of 39E. Since an idea of fire is not men- 
tioned in the exhaustive enumeration there given of the 
ideas contained in the supreme idea, an idea of fire he 
argues, cannot be meant seriously here. But 39 E does not 
speak of the ‘supreme idea,’’ which is a figment of modern 
Platonists. The ¢#ov is simply the universal of animal or 
living thing, and as such the paradigm of the world which 
isa living thing. (Cf. 4.J. P., Vol. IX, p. 294.) It includes 
all subordinate vonra Ga. There is no reason to look for 
other ideas in it. J. Horowrrz (Das Platonische vontov 
§@ov und der Philonische xoouos vontos, Marburg, 1900) fails 
to prove his assertion that the vonrov gdov is “die Welt- 
Idee.” Mr. Archer-Hind’s further arguments merely pre- 


163 


38 Tue Unity or Puato’s THOUGHT 





they are mere concepts, or thoughts of God. On the contrary, God uses them as pat- 
terns, and as elements in the creation of the soul.”’ They are characterized in 
terms applicable only to pure absolute Being, and the familiar terminology is freely 
employed.** Three things, Plato repeats, must have existed from all eternity: the 
pure Being of the ideas, the generated copies, and space, the medium or receptacle.™ 
The attempts of modern scholars to eliminate these elements or identify them with 
other categories found in other dialogues contradict Plato’s explicit statements. We 
are often told that space is the @dzepov or wy dv." For this there is not a scintilla 
of evidence.” Plato even says of space: tavtov avtny ael rpoopyntéov (50 B), and calls 
it a tpitov avd yévos dv To THS xwpas act. The “same” and the “other” appear in a 
wholly different connection in the creation of the soul, and are obviously the categories 
of the Sophist attributed to the soul to explain its cognition of sameness and differ- 
ence.’ The occurrence of these categories in a dialogue that reaffirms the transcen- 
dental idea proves that to Plato’s mind the two points of view were not incompatible, 
which, for the rest, is obvious enough from the Phedrus. We must interpret the 
Sophist, Politicus, and Philebus in the light of this presumption, and treat the termi- 
nology of the ideas as prima facie evidence of the doctrine. The Republic (476) 
‘“‘already”’ states that the transcendental unity of the ideas is somehow compatible 
with their communion. The Sophist formulates all the concessions which a “ working 
> must demand from all philosophies of the absolute, be it absolute relativity, 
absolute Being, or absolute Platonic ideas. Plato minimized the inevitable inconsist- 
ency, and a sound interpretation will not exaggerate it. A working logic does not 
emphasize the transcendental character of the idea. But the language of 248 A, 
247 A B, distinctly implies it.** The statement that d:acoodvy and Ppdvnorw are engen- 
dered in the soul (€yy/yverac) obviously does not mean that they are per se concepts 
of the mind. Nor can we infer that the ideas are mere concepts from passages in 


logic ’ 


sent the usual objections of common-sense conceptualism— 
which are not competent to anyone who himself believes in 
any metaphysics or attributes metaphysics to Plato. 


25728A, 29A, 30BC, 354A. ZELLER, p. 665, n. 2, adds 
Pheedr., 247, which is irrelevant, and Rep., 596 A ff., where 
God is the maker of the ideas. Lutoslawski’s argument 
from vonoet meta Adyou meptAnmrov (27 E, 29 A, pp. 474, 477) in- 
terpreted as “included in thought”’ is a simple mistransla- 
tion. 

25852 A, 27D, 28AB, 29B, 30C. Cf. 39E,6 €or; 37B, 7a 
Kara TavTa €xovra dei; 48E, mapadetyyaros, to which cor- 
respond 50 C, pimjwara, and 52A, ovwvupov onovov; 31 A, the 
Tpitos avOpwros. 


25952 D. 
260 B. g., by RITCHIE, p. 116, 


261 ZELLER, pp. 719 ff., 733, produces none. Aristotle's 
obscure allusions prove nothing. The identification of the 
areipov of the Philebus with 7 ov and matter breaks down, 
There remains the argument that, since in the Repwblic the 
ideas are év and phanomena are perati —évros and py 6vtos, 
matter must be wy 6v apprehended neither by vovs nor 


aigOnors, but Aoytoue tivi v60w(52B). But Plato’s terminology 
cannot be used out of its context in this way. The py ov 
problem belongs to logic. Phanomena are intermediate be- 
tween 6v and «7 ov because they change, and are and are 
not the same predicates, not because they are the offspring 
of ideas and matter. In physics Plato was forced, how- 
ever reluctantly, to assign a kind of eternity to matter or 
space. (Cf. BERKELEY, Principles, sec. 117: “either that 
real space is God, or that there is something beside God 
which is eternal, uncreated.”) So far is it from being true 
that space or matter imparts “7 dv to phenomena that, on 
the contrary, Plato explicitly says that phenomena, being 
unreal images, cling to essence (oigias) somehow through 
their existence in space. Tim., 52C. 


26237 ABC is plainlya psychological myth or allegory 
expressing the results of the analysis of the Sophist. Cf. 
also Theeetet., 194 B. 


263 86a Aoytopov Se Wuxy mpds Thy OvTws oveiav, Hv dei KaTa 
TavTAa wWoaiTws Exew hare. .... ovons ovv Sixatoovvns Kat ppo- 
vigews . . . . TOTEpov Oparov Kai amrov (cf, Tim., 28 B) elvai pact 
TL aUT@Y H TWavTa adpara, 


164 


Pau SHOREY 39 





It is often said 
This is a complete miscon- 


which we are required to apprehend them in thought or in the soul.”* 
that souls take the place of ideas in Plato’s later period. 
ception of Plato’s thought and style. It is quite true that he could not confine the 
predicates of true or absolute Being to the ideas. 
in religious and metaphysical passages need not always be distinguished from the ideas 
taken collectively. Both are invisible, eternal, intelligible. In the Timaus space also 
is reluctantly treated as a kind of eternal being. The Sophist tries to show that 
“being” is amenable to human logic and cognizable by finite minds. This involves a 
contradiction for all except consistent relativists who renounce pure Being altogether. 
This Plato could not do, for, not only in the Parmenides, but in the late Timaus, he 
retains absolute Being for metaphysics and religion. In the Sophist he shows that for 
human logic it is as impracticable as absolute not-Being. To be known and talked 
about it must come out of its isolation and enter into relations—act and be acted upon. 
Being is therefore temporarily defined against the extremists of all schools as the 
power and potentiality” of action or passion, and the contradiction is smoothed over 
by the equivocal use of “true being” to denote both the metaphysical and the reli- 
gious nowmenon—the ideas and God. True Being as God obviously possesses life, 
thought, motion, soul, and true Being as the ideas borrows so much life and motion as 
will explain their intercommunion in finite thought." But the definition, its purpose 
served, is never repeated, and pure transcendental being reappears in the Timeus. 
That the ideas still take precedence of souls appears distinctly from Polit., 309 C, 
where it is said that fixed opinions in souls are a divine thing in a demonic thing. 
The same follows from the creation of the soul in the Timeus, and the hierarchy of 
elements in the good (Phileb., 66) where pure ideas precede vots."" Politicus, 269 D, pre- 
sumably implies the ideas; 285 H ff. unmistakably affirms them. What other possible 
interpretation can be put upon the statement 87 Tots wey THY dvT@Y padios Katapabety 
aicOnral Ties dpordtntes mepvcacw? These dvta are plainly ideas of material things, 
of which material things are likenesses. But Ta tiwi@rata (justice, good, etc., Phaedr., 


God is, of course, true Being, and 


264 Sophist, 250 B, tpitov apa te mapa tava To dv Ev TH WUXT 
reis. Cf. 243C, ovx Hrtov Kata 7d dv TavTov ToVTO maBos ELAy- 
ores ev TH WuxH. Cf. OmodAoyjmata ... . ev TH NMETEPA WXT» 
Theeetet., 155 A, from which LuTOSLAWSEI, p. 383, infers that 
the ideas are subjective notions! 


265 247 E, évvauis probably includes both. 


266 The entire passage betraysembarrassment. To adapt 
“Being” to the necessities of logic, Plato is obliged to 
deny of it (248 DE) what in Tim., 38 A B, his feelings require 
him to affirm. He treats yeyvéocxeo@ac as a magxew which 
ZELLER (p. 652), as a true Aristotelian, thinks a verbal fal- 
lacy. In the crucial passage, 249A, he uses avro (unde Syy 
av7>) which draws our attention away from the ideas. 
And having attributed soul and mind to ‘‘it,” he merely 
infers that, since these involve xivyots, kivyots must be in- 
cluded among 6vta (which Campbell, ad loc., regards as a 
formal fallacy). Plainly, whatever implications we force 
upon Plato’s words, his purpose here is not to attribute 
soul to the ideas, but to remove from the path of logic the 


év éar6s of Parmenides (or his followers at Megara or in 
the school —ovéév yap tavtp dcapeper) as well as the mavta pet 
of Heraclitus for which he felt less sympathy. Cf. Thee- 
tet., 180, 181, 183 E, 184 A. 


267 See ZELLER, pp. 689, 690, who seems to deny the con- 
tradiction altogether, and pp. 696-8, where he argues that 
the Sophist is early because life and causality are never 
again attributed to the ideas, and do not belong to them 
in Aristotle’s representation, Space fails to enumerate all 
points of agreement with or difference from APELT’s subtle 
study of the Sophist (Bevtrdge). He points out that the 
definition of év is directed mainly against the materialists, 
and calls attention to iows eis iorepov Erepov avgavern. Heis 
right in denying that Plato’s views changed, and in mini- 
mizing the significance of the apparent attribution of life 
to the ideas. But he errs when he seeks an explicit state- 
ment of it in other dialogues and for this purpose presses 
dunvoyv vow, Tim., 52 B. 


268 To KaTa TAUTA Kal WoavTws ExeLV, Etc, 


165 


40 Tue Unity or Puato’s THOUGHT 





250 B, éca dAXa Tia uyais), have no copies in the world of sense, and must be appre- 
hended by reason. This is precisely the doctrine of Phadrus, 250 BC D and 263 A B, 
and ought to end controversy."” We have already seen that the Philebus bids us 
assume ideas and disregard the difficulties of the Parmenides.” There is no hint 
that they are only concepts.” We may assume, then, that the language of 58 A, 59C, 
and 61 E implies the ideas.” 


Ill. PSYCHOLOGY 


Supposed variations in Plato’s psychology have been used to determine the evolu- 
tion of his thought and the relative dates of the dialogues. The chief topics are: 
(1) the immortality of the soul; (2) the unity of the soul, or its subdivision into 
faculties; (3) the general argument that the psychology of the “later” dialogues is 
richer and more precise than that of the earlier. 

1. The immortality of the individual soul is for Plato a pious hope,”” and an ethical 
postulate, rather than a demonstrable certainty.” He essays various demonstrations, 
but nearly always in connection with a myth, and of all the proofs attempted but one is 
repeated. In the Apology Socrates, addressing his judges, affects to leave the question 
open.”” But we cannot infer from this that the Apology antedates Plato’s belief in 
immortality. For, to say nothing of Pythagorean sources of inspiration, he had pre- 
sumably read Pindar’s second Olympian with approval; and Socrates’s language in 
Crito, 54 B, is precisely in the tone of the Gorgias and the Phedo.” The Meno*™® 
assumes the immortality and the prior existence of the soul to account for a priori 
knowledge. The Phado presents a complicated proof or series of proofs. The Sympo- 
sium seems to recognize only the subjective immortality of fame, and the racial immor- 
tality of offspring.”” The “early” Phedrus and the late Laws alone agree in a proof 
based on the conception of the soul as the self-moving.™” It is easy to foresee the 
hypotheses which an ingenious philology will construct from these facts. Krohn, Pflei- 
derer, and Rohde gravely argue that Book I of the Republic must be very early because 
the aged Cephalus neglects the opportunity to supplement his citation from Pindar with 
a scientific proof of immortality. Horn tells us that the Phedrus represents the first 

269 For avapvyacs in the Politicus cf. infra, p. 44. 

210 See A. J. P., Vol. IX, p. 279. 

271 LUTOSLAWSEI, p. 467, mistranslates, or, if he prefers, 
misinterprets, 15D: ‘‘the nature of thought requires the 
union of notions into higher units, and this constitutes an 


eternal necessity of the human mind.” Cf. supra, p. 36. 


2i27nv yap wepi Td bv Kai To GvTwS Kat TO KaTa TavTOY aéEt 


Phedo, 115DE; and with the idea, 959 B, that the only 
Bo7Geca at the bar of Hades is a just life in this world, cf. 
Gorg., 522 C D, 526 E; Crito, 54 B. 

275 Phaedo, 85 C, rd méev cades eidévar ev TO viv Biw 7 advva- 
tov elvat 7 mayxaderov t. Cf. 107 AB; Tim., 72D; Meno, 
86AB; Pheedr., 265 C. 

27640C, Cf. also Pheedo, 91B. 


meukos . . . » Kakp@ dAneorarny elvar yroowy.— TEepi Ta del KATA ; c “ 

ep Se ee cee: s LATIN aoe , 277 Cratylus, 403 D E, implies the doctrine of Phedo, 
Ta AUTA WOAUTWS AMLLKTOTATA €xovTa,—n &€ €ML TA PTE yryvoueva 67 68. 

pyre amoAAUpeva, kata TaUTa Sé Kai WoavTws dvradet, Cf, 62A, ated 

avrns mepi Sixacocvuvns 6 Te ott, GHA, THY aidiov ... . pio, 27881 C. 


For the ideas in relation to the method xar’ eiéy rénveww, 
and a fuller discussion of the my dv fallacy, see infra, 
Part II. 

273 Pheedo, 114 D, xpi ta toLvadta wWomep émddeww €avTe, 

274 Rep., 608 C ff.; Laws, 881A, 987 DE, 959A B; with 


tov &@ bvra Hua@v exagrov ovTws abavarov [eivac] Wuxny, cf. 


279 207 D, 208 B. Too much is made of this, for the same 
inference could be drawn from Laws,721 and 773B. The 
popular belief in Hades is implied, 192 E, and there is even 
a hint, 212 A, that the philosopher may be immortal: cimep 
Tw GAA avOpwrwy abavatw Kai éxeivy, 


280 Pheedr., 245C; Laws, 894, 895. 


166 


PauL SHOREY 41 








youthful enthusiastic apprehension of immortality, the Symposium expresses the mood 
of sober manhood content with this life, while in the Phado old age, waiting for death, 
craves a real immortality. According to Thompson, the Meno reserves the proof of 
what it merely asserts; the Phcedrus outlines a general proof, the Republic later 
attempts another; the Symposium, dissatisfied with all so far achieved, ignores the sub- 
ject; and finally the problem is taken up seriously in the Phawdo. Zeller, on the other 
hand, while holding that all the proofs are substantially identical, thinks, as we have 
seen, that the Republic refers to the Pheedo, and is also later than the Phadrus. But 
to Lutoslawski it is evident that the proof given in the Phawdrus and repeated in the 
Laws is the latest. And he also can discern that the Symposium, in the first flush of 
idealism, could dispense with the personal immortality of the Gorgias, but that later, 
when the theory of ideas had grown familiar, Plato undertook in the Phedo to affiliate 
upon it the old doctrine of immortality. 

Hardly more profitable than these arbitrary speculations is the analysis of the 
separate arguments. Broadly speaking, Zeller is right in saying that they all amount 
to this, that it is the nature or essence of the soul to live. But this general truth 
becomes a fallacy when employed to identify absolutely the distinct arguments of the 
Phedo, the Republic, and the Phedrus. The gist of the argument in the tenth book 
of the Republic is a fallacy employed also in the first book (353 D E), the equivocal 
use of the apet7 or specific excellence of the soul in relation to its épyov, its function 
and essence. In both cases the épyov is defined in terms of mere life-vitality, while 
the apery is referred to the moral life. But in so far as the épyov or essence of the 
soul is mere life, its apet7 is intensity and persistency of life—not justice.“' Simi- 
larly the Pheedrus and Laws, identifying life with self-movement, prove the eternity 
of the principle of motion, and assume it to include moral and intellectual qualities.” 
But there is a certain pedantry in thus scrutinizing these arguments. Plato’s belief 
in immortality was a conviction of the psychological and moral impossibility of sheer 
materialism, and a broad faith in the unseen, the spiritual, the ideal. The logical 
obstacles to a positive demonstration of personal immortality were as obvious to him 


as they are to his critics. If we must analyze the arguments of the Phaedo, the 
“They prove, at the most, 


analysis of Bonitz is, on the whole, the most plausible. 


281 Of. the equivocal use of appovia in Pheedo, 93,94, to 
denote the composition of physical elements that. on the 
hypothesis under examination, is life, and the harmony of 
spiritual qualities that is virtue. 


282 Laws, 896 C D. 


283 Laws, 891 C, cwduvever yap 0 A€ywv tadTa mip Kai Vdwp 
kal yiv Kal aépa mpata Hyecoba Tay mavrwy etvac, Cf. Phileb., 
30A; Theetet., 155 E, 184.D; Sophist, 246A; Tim., 51 C, 
}) TavtTa, amep Kat BAemonev ,,. . Ova EaTi ToLav’THY ExoVTA 
adnbecav, 

284 7, e., the argument éx Tay évayriwy Ta évavria, 70 E ff., 
proves merely that the state of the soul after death is the 
same as that before birth. The argument from avaprvyots, 
73 ff., supplements this by the proof that before birth the 
soul possessed intelligence. The final argument meets all 


objections by establishing the inherent immortality of the 
soul as a form that always involves the idea of life. I may 
add that the fallacy in this ingenious argument may be 
analyzed in various ways. In 103B it is said that aird 7a 
€vavtiov, as distinguished from za €xovta ta évavtia could 
never admit its opposite. Avro ro évavtiov is then sub- 
divided into 70 ev juty and 7d ev tH Picer. This seems to 
yield three things: the idea per se, the idea in the particular, 
and the particular as affected by the idea. (Cf. supra, n. 252.) 
But there are really only two things: the idea, and the 
particular affected by the ‘ presence” of or “* participa- 
tion” in the idea. How the idea can be at once in itself 
and in the particular may be, as we have seen, a mystery. 
But it does not justify the duplication of the idea, which is 
a device employed here only, and presumably with full 
consciousness, for the purpose of the argument. For by its 


“ Ty 


167 


42 THe Unity or PLato’s THOUGHT 





the immortality of soul, not of the individual. This Plato presumably knew, but 
we cannot expect him to say so by the death-bed of Socrates or in the ethical myths, 
which obviously assume individual immortality.” But neither this unavoidable funda- 
mental ambiguity nor the fanciful variations of the eschatological myths conyict Plato 
of serious inconsistency, or supply any evidence for the dating of the dialogues. 

2. In the Republic Plato bases the definitions of the virtues and the three classes 
of the population on a tripartite division of the soul, which he warns us is not demon- 
strated absolutely, but sufficiently for the purpose in hand.“ A poetical passage of 
the tenth book hints that in its true nature the soul is one and simple, but that we 
cannot perceive this so long as, like the sea-god Glaucus, it is disguised by the accre- 
tions of its earthly life.*’ The tripartite division is embodied in the myth of the 
Phedrus, which, if we pedantically press the poetical imagery,” implies the pre- 
existence even of the appetites.” In the Timaus the immortal soul is created by the 
Demiurgus, the mortal, which falls into two parts, spirit and appetite, by his minis- 
ters.” Here the tripartite division is subordinated to a bipartite, as Aristotle would 
have it.” But we are explicitly warned that the revelation of a god would be required 
to affirm the absolute scientific truth of this division, and to distinguish precisely the 
mortal from the immortal part.“” In the Laws the question whether the @vyés is an 
affection or a distinct part of the soul is left open.”’ As Aristotle says, it makes no 
“ The Pheedo, attempting to prove immor- 
tality, naturally dwells rather upon the unity of the soul, as does the tenth book of the 
Republic. But it distinguishes, quite in the manner of the Republic, the three types 
of character, the Pirdcodos or diropabys, the PirAapyxos or PidrdTiwos, and the girocw- 
patos or didoxypymatos.”” Phcedo, 79 BCE, does not affirm that the soul is absolutely 
simple and uncompounded, but that the body is more akin to the composite, and the 
soul to the simple and unchanging. The contradictions found by Krohn and Pfleiderer 
in the psychology of the Republic, or between the Republic and Pheedo, on this point, 
are sufficiently explained by Hirmer.”’ From all this it appears (1) that Plato 
affirmed nothing dogmatically with regard to the ultimate psychological problem. 
(2) That his primary classification was the distinction between the pure reason and the 
lower faculties subordinate to reason and dependent on the body. (3) That for ethical 
and political theory he found most helpful the tripartite classification—reason, spirit, 


difference for ethical and political theory. 


aid the life in the individual is posited as an intermediate 
entity between life per se and the living individual, and 
pronounced immortal because, like life per se, it will not 
admit its opposite. Another way of putting it is to say that, 
in 106 E ff., a@avarov is equivocally used for (1) that which 
does not admit death (while life is present), (2) that which 
does not admit death at all. 

285 Gorg., 524 ff.; Rep., 614 ff. Cf. Laws, 94 BC; Tim., 
41 D, Wuxas ioapiOnous tois datpois, ete. 

286 435 C D ff. 287611 C-612 A. 288 246 A ff. 

289 NaTORP, Hermes, Vol. XXXV, p. 430, objects that the 
souls of the gods are tripartite and that the horses, though 
in the procession, do not see the ideas! SusemMIHL, Neue 


Plat. Forsch., p. 83, says that Rep., X, must be later than 
Phedrus, for in the Pheedrus immortality belongs to all 
three parts of the soul! 


29034 BC, 69C ff, 


291 Eth. Nic., 1, 13, 9, olov rd wév aAoyov avrijs elvar, ro Se 
Adyov Exov, 

29272 D; ef. Phoedr., 246 A. 

293 863 B, etre re mados cite Te wépos Hv O Oupos. 

254 Bth, Nic., 1, 18, 10, ovdev Scaheéper mpds 7d mapov, 

295 68 C, 82.C. 

296‘ Entstehung und Komposition der Plat. Politeia,” 
Jahrbiicher fir Phil., Suppl., N. F,.,Vol. XXIII, pp. 642, 643, 


168 


PauLt SHOREY 43 





appetite—which he also embodied in the myths of the Phadrus and the Timaus. 
(4) That, while this classification may be profitably compared with the modern intelli- 
gence, feeling, will, it is beside the mark to criticise it as if it were meant to be 
psychologically exact and exhaustive.”’ We cannot establish any fixed relation 
between the tripartite soul and the hierarchy of the cognitive faculties 
emaTnpn), Sudvora, dda, tiatis, eikacta, etc.” 





vous (vonats, 
Plato sometimes treats the inerrant 
reason as a distinct part of the soul from the fallible faculties of sense and opinion.” 
He sometimes associates sense-perception with sensuous appetite in common antithesis 
to the reason.” But he also, when it suits his purpose, virtually identifies (true) 
opinion with reason, in opposition to the impulses of instinct and appetite.” The 
Ouuds, though associated with opinion,”” cannot be assigned with it to a distinct part 
of the soul."’ Nor can it be identified with the ‘‘feeling” of the modern psychologist. 
The will as a faculty distinct from the impulses of appetite and the judgments of the 
reason has no place in Plato’s system. (5) That we cannot fix the time at which the 
notion of the tripartite soul first occurred to Plato, nor may we use apparent variations 
in the mythological dress of the doctrine in order to date the Phado and Phedrus 
relatively to each other or to the Republic. 

3. The chief changes alleged in Plato’s “later’’ psychology are: (a) the abandon- 
ment of avduvnows; (b) a different conception of the relation of mind and body, more 
particularly as concerns the nature and seat of pleasure and pain; (c) a fuller and 
more precise terminology of the cognitive faculties and the degrees of knowledge. 
This later psychology must be sought chiefly in the Plilebus. It is not enough to 
point out that the Philebus is especially rich in psychological detail. The subject 
called for it, and we cannot expect all the dialogues to be equally full in every topic. 
What is required is contradictions of earlier dialogues, or new thoughts not hinted at 
in them. And these are not to be found. 

a) The explanation of the ordinary psychological meaning of avduvnous in Philebus, 
34 B, no more proves the abandonment of the peculiar Platonic doctrine than does the 
occurrence of the word in that sense in the Republic, 604 D. The Pheedo itself treats 
the avduvnors of the ideas as a special case of recollection and association of ideas gen- 
erally, and employs the consecrated phrase tovr0 & éotiv avduynow of an example that 
fits the definition of the Philebus.™ Plainly all recollection of the ideas is avduvnacs, 
but all avaurnows need not be recollection of the ideas. Moreover, as the word occurs 
without the doctrine in the Philebus, so we find the doctrine without the word in the 
Politicus. As the point has been overlooked, it is worth while to dwell upon it. Every 


297See JoweErt, Vol. I, p. 410; ZELLER, p. 846; LuTos- 
LAWSKI, p. 278. 


301 Phileb., 60D; Pheedr., 237 D; infra, p. 48, n. 357. 
302 This is probably the meaning of aAnPuvjs Soéns Eralpos, 


298 The imagery and terminology of Rep., 511 D, 534 A, 
belong to the literary machinery of the Republic, and are 
not to be pressed. 

299 Rep., 478 A B, 602 E-603 A, ro mapa ta pérpa apa doéagov 
THS WUXIS TO KaTa Ta METPA OUK ay Ein TaUTOV. 


300 Phaedo, 65, 66. 


Pheedr., 253D, despite the antithesis adAafoveias éraipos. 
adnOuy is used of 56a = opinion in Theetet., 187 C; Phileb., 
37B. 

303In Tim., 87 BC, d0fac and mores belong to the circle 
of the @atepov in the immortal soul. 


30473 D. 


169 


44 THE Unity or PLaAto’s THOUGHT 








man, we are told, knows all things as in a dream, though he fails of waking knowl- 
edge.*” This at once recalls the wexaPnxvias ths Yuxis amavta of the locus classicus 
on avayynos, Meno, 81D. In the Meno, too, it is said that this knowledge is at first 
dreamlike, but is converted by the elenchus into true science.” The Politicus goes on 
to show, by the use of Plato’s favorite illustration of letters or “elements,’’”” how it is 
that, despite this antecedent knowledge, we go astray, and how in the study of complex 
and difficult things the right use of example and comparison will enable us to recognize 
the identity of the same form or idea everywhere, so that we shall have a waking and 
not a dreamlike knowledge.** Children, knowing their letters in some sort, distinguish 
them rightly in easy combinations, but blunder in long hard syllables, until by compari- 
son with the easy they learn to recognize the same letter everywhere. So our soul, 
similarly affected by nature toward the elements of all things (the ideas), sometimes and 
in some things is settled and fixed by truth concerning each one, but at other times and 
in other things is driven to and fro among them all, and of some it somehow forms 
right opinions among the combinations, but fails to apprehend these same things when 
transferred to the long and difficult syllables of facts. Not only the general drift, but 
the language and imagery of this passage must be understood of the recollections of 
the ideas. The phrase tav’tov Todt Hav 4 Wuyn pioe Tepl Ta TOV TavT@Y oTOLXELa 
merrovOvia does not refer mainly or solely to our liability to error, as might be sup- 
posed from Campbell’s ‘‘is naturally liable to the same infirmity,” or from Jowett’s 
‘has the same uncertainty.” It refers to the whole preceding comparison of which the 
starting-point is that the soul knows all things in a sense, even as the children know 
all their letters imperfectly. That this is the meaning of voce. . . . wemovOvia appears 
further by comparison with Phedrus, 249 E, raca pév avOpwrov wuyn pice TePéatar 
ta ovta. The doctrine of avdurnow, then, repeated in the Politicus, is not abandoned 
in the Philebus. This conclusion might have been affirmed a priori. For “recollec- 
’ once indissolubly associated with the ideas and the pre-existence of the soul, 
would not be given up while they were retained. But pre-existence is assumed in the 
Laws,’ and the ideas, as we have seen, occur in the Politicus®’ and are reaffirmed in 
the Timceus, which also implies the soul’s prior knowledge of all things, in language 
recalling the Phadrus and Politicus.™ 

b) The general problem of the relation of mind and body is involved in that of 
immortality and the parts of the soul. As we have seen, the Timeus, though it assigns 
separate seats to the mortal and immortal soul, declines to dogmatize without the assur- 


tion,’ 


205 277 D, xevduvever yap nua exagtos olov dvap cidws atavta 306 Meno, 85 C, eomep ovap apti xexivyvrat ai Sofa abrat, 
ai médw @onep imap ayvoev, RITCHIE, p. 143, misapprehends 307 Repub., 402 AB; cf Soph., 253A; Phileb., 18C; Thea- 
this passage when he associates it with the “‘ lie of approxi- tet., 201 E; Tim., 48B, etc. 
mation.’> Wemust use examples, not because in difficult 


oe ie ee 5 808 27. EXY, igev, twa v avr’ Oveipatos Hiv 
matters it is permissible to fall back upon ‘‘picture- HSNO ILA IST, OES eit Cer IS eI 


thinking and symbolism,” but because only by beginning RU ia = 
with easy examples can we learn how to convert our dream- 309 904, 905. 
like knowledge into real knowledge. The yap introduces 310 Supra, p. 39. 


the whole parallel, of which the dreamlike knowledge of 


I ; 31141 EB, rv tov mavtos pvow edecke, 
all things is only the first point. 


PauL SHOREY 45 





ance of a god, and the Laws leaves it an open question whether the parts of the soul 
are real parts or functions."” Of the dependence of our cognitive faculties on bodily 
organs Plato knew as much or as little as we know.’ In the images of the wax tablet 
and aviary he anticipates all psychologies that explain memory, association, and recol- 
lection, and the distinction between latent and actual knowledge, by material analogies.” 
But sheer materialism and sensationalism he rejects, for many other reasons” and 
because it fails to account for the synthetic unity of thought.*” The senses are the organs 
through which, not the faculties by which, we know.”’ Sometimes and for some purposes 
he exalts pure thought freed from all contaminations of sense.”* In other moods, he 
recognizes that human thought takes its start from a’o@nous or immediate perception.” 
He points out that the contradictions of sense give the first awakening stimulus to the 
generalizing activities of mind.“ He admits that our minds are too weak to attain to 
knowledge without experience,” and require the aid of concrete examples in order to 
apprehend difficult abstractions.” We can recover the prenatal vision of the ideas only 
by association with their sensuous “copies,” or by strenuous logical discipline.** And, 
though knowledge is not sense-perception, sense-perception is the best evidence that 
we have of some things.” Only a very literal-minded criticism will treat these con- 
cessions as a contradiction of the apotheosis of pure thought in the Phado. 

Slightly more plausible is the claim that Plato contradicts himself in regard to the 
nature and seat of desire, pleasure, and pain.” The “early” Gorgias and the “late” 
Philebus explicitly affirm that the soul, not the body, is the seat of desire.*’ The Philebus 
adds the psychological reason that desire is dependent on memory.*’ The Philebus 
further explains pleasure and pain as mental states arising from changes in the body 
sudden enough or violent enough to affect the mind and pass the threshold of con- 
sciousness, in modern phrase.”* Pain results from movements unfavorable to the 
“natural” condition of the body, pleasure from those that preserve or restore the natural 


312 Supra, n. 293; cf, also Rep., 612 A, eire modverdis cite 322 Polit., 277D. Cf. Pheedr., 262C, Wras mus Aéyouer 
povoedys, Pheedr., 271A. ovK Exovtes ixava mapade’ypata, 

313 Phoedo, 96 BC, morepov 7d alua éorw @ ppovodmer, 7) O 323 Phoedo, 715A; Polit., 286A; Rep., 583A, Kat ore y Tov 
anp 7 To mvp, etc, Note the irony of the whole passage. SiaréyerOar Svvauts povn av dyvecey eumeipw Sve Ov viv by 


SijAPomev, Tim., 47 A, tov viv Adywr rept Tov mavTos Acyouevwy 


314 Thecetet., 191 D ff. (ef. Pheedr., 275 A, timwv), 197 D, 


197 B-200 B, 
304 8 roe rate iSévac END ; 
315 Pheedo, 80B, 96; Phileb., 30; Tim.,51C; Laws, 889. Ne eRe ECE ST CLD, id ours neuen. toa etboyat EN ues (Be 
vn. Sophist, 234D, cat d:a raOnpatwv avayxafouevous evapyas 
316 Thecetet., 184 D. épartecOa tov dvtwy. The whole passage is in seeming con- 
es p tradiction with the thought of Phedo, 100 A, and Rep., 473 A, 
317 ; 7901: = 
Thecetet., 1840; Phoedo, 65D, 19C; Tim., 67B. that words (thought) come nearer to truth than deeds. See 
318 Pheedo, 65C (ef. Thecetet., 187 A), 66 A, eiAckpived 7H also Meno, $7B. 


Stavoia; 67C, To xwpigew 6 Te madioaTa amd TOV TwuaTos THY 


ovdeis av mote eppyOn wyte aoTpa mye HALov uyTe OvVpavoy iSovTwr. 


325Grote, Jowett, Mr. Henry Jackson, and others. 


wuxny. Horn, who rejects the Philebus, says (p. 380) that it assigns 
319 Thecetet., 179 C, ro mapov éxdotw ma0os éé Sy aiaicdyces desire to the soul, but pain and pleasure to the body, 
kai ai kata Tavtas Sofa, Charm., 159 A, aig@naty tia mapéexery, 326 Gorg., 493A, THs 8& Wuxhs TovTO év G émiOvmiat €ici. So 


€& fis Soka av tis oor mepi avris ety. Phileb., 249 B, éx moAAav Tim., 69C. 
iov aigOjaewy eis Ev Aoycopu.w Evvarpovmevor, 32735 
735, 


320 2. : 
EDEN INES TEE 328 33, 34, 48BC. Cf. Rep., 462C, 584C, ai ye 61a 70 cwpa- 
321 Thecetet., 149C, ore yn avOpwrivn dias agbevertéepa i Tos emi THY WuxnV Telvovgat Kai Acyouevar Hdovat. Cf, Laws, 
AaBety Téexvnv dv ay 7 amecpos. 673 A, méexpe THs Wux7s; Tim., 45 D (of sensations). 


171 


46 THE Unity oF PLAto’s THOUGHT 


state.’ This is also the doctrine of the Timeus, and it is not contradicted anywhere. 
In ethical and religious discussion, however, it is natural to identify the ‘‘soul”’ with the 
higher intelligence, vods or immortal soul, and to speak of the pleasures of the mortal 
soul which come through the body and are necessitated by the body as pleasures of 
the body. And Plato, though usually scrupulously precise,” occasionally permits 
himself this inexact way of speaking. The Philebus enumerates three kinds of mixed 
pleasures and pains: (1) merely mental, as in the pleasurable-painful emotions; (2) 
merely bodily; (3) those that arise when pleasure of mind accompanies pain of body, 
or the reverse.” In a few cases the ‘‘ bodily” pleasures are spoken of as if they were 
literally in or of the body.*’ But Plato was justified in assuming that only a careless 
or captious reader would misunderstand him. For hardly three pages back he had 
explained that bodily states produce pleasure and pain only when they cross the 
threshold of consciousness.** There are also two or three cases in the Phedo. In 
the first the phrase “appetites of the body” is used in a highly wrought, ethical pas- 
sage precisely as it might be employed by a modern preacher, with no implication of 
psychological doctrine.“* The second occurs in the refutation of the hypothesis that 
the soul may be a “harmony” of material states or elements. To refute this objection 
Socrates employs the very argument used in the Republic to distinguish vods from 
éemiOuuia and Oupos.*’ The soul cannot be identical with that which it rebukes and 
controls as a superior. The soul, instead of being controlled, i170 tov Tod cwpaTos 
ma0ov, is master of them. Therefore it cannot be a “harmony” composed of them. 
The appetites are treated as material ra@ypata in order to refute, in its own termi- 
nology, the hypothesis that the soul is a composition of material wa@jyata. The 
argument would lose its force if stated in the terminology of the Republic. If the 
tripartite soul were explicitly recognized, it would be necessary, first, to decide which 
parts are to be immortal; secondly, to prove directly, and not by the equivocal substi- 
tution of “bodily” appetites for states of matter, that the vots or soul cannot be a 
harmony of material elements. For these reasons, in the Phado, soul, tacitly identified 
with vovds, is opposed to body as a whole, including the appetites. But the literary 
and zsthetic necessity of this way of speaking having once been perceived, we cannot 
treat it as a contradiction of the psychological truth clearly stated in the “earlier” 


829 Phileb., 31D ff., 42D; Tim., 64 CD, 66C, 68 A. Im- 
plied perhaps “already” in Cratyl., 419 C, 9 te Avan amd THs 
Aristotle, Eth. Nic., 10, 3, 6, contro- 
verting the doctrine that pleasure is a yeveow, says: et 
69 ore TOU KaTa pia avarAnpwots born, Ev @ N avamAjpwats, 
TouT’ av Kai ydovTo" ov doxet S€, where ov doxet 
expresses as often Plato’s opinion, 


Stadvoews TOU GwHmaTOS, 


7) gama apa* 


330 Phileb., 39D, tav dca tov owpatos ydovav. So 45B, 
Phedo, 653A; Tim., 64A; Rep., 584C, 485 D; Phileb., 45 A, 
ai mepi to copa, So Pheedr.,258E. Cf., Cratyl., 404A; Rep., 
442A; Tim., 64A; Phileb., 41C, 70 capa hv To mapexopevov; 
Rep., 584A, 76 ye nov év puxy yeyvopmevov; 442 A, 

321 47 E-50D, 46 C, 47 C D. 

33246BC, 50D. So Prodicus in Protag., 331C. The 
statement, Phileb., 31 B, that pleasure and pain originate 


172 


év7@ Kow@... . yevet is merely preparatory to the explana- 
tion that they are the psychic correlates of beneficial or 
harmful changes in the body. It is obviously no contra- 
diction of the reference of )50vy to the arecpov in 31B. Cf. 
A.J P., Vol. IX, No. 3, p. 284, 

33343 BC. Cf. 33D, 0és trav mepi td capa... . mabnnarwr 
Ta MeV EV TH TWMATL KaTaTBEVVUpEva mply Emi THY WuXHY SreseAPecy, 
This is the doctrine of Tim., 64A BC, and it is “ already” 
implied in Theeetet., 186 C, 60a Sa Tov ouHparos Tabypara emi 
Thy Wuxn teive, Phileb., 55 B, explicitly affirms that pleas- 
ure is in the soul only: m@s ovx dAoyov éore pndev ayabdv elvac 

. wAnY ev WuxA Kai évtad0a nSovny wovor, 

83466 C, kai yap moAduous Kal oracets Kai paxas ovbév AAO 

mapéxet 7) TO TWA Kal ai TOVTOV EmLOUMiat, 


235 Pheedo, 94 B ff.; Rep., 441 B, 390 D. 


4 


PauL SHOREY 47 





Gorgias and * later’? Philebus. 
Republic antedates or abandons the tripartite soul because the doctrine is ignored in 
the proof of immortality attempted there. 

c) Lastly it is sometimes affirmed that the later dialogues show an increased preci- 
sion in the use of psychological terminology. 
vocabulary is nowhere technical. 
context. Nor can we find in Spinoza or Kant or in any modern text-book the consist- 
ent precision that is sometimes demanded of Plato. There is no modern terminology 
which sharply discriminates mental states that are or are not supposed to involve the 
element of judgment and belief. There is none that shows independently of the 
context the precise line intended to be drawn between sensation and perception, 
or distinguishes revived and compounded “images” from “images” regarded as 
immediate impressions. We cannot, then, expect Plato to emphasize distinctions not 
needed for his immediate purpose, but if we bear this in mind, we shall find no serious 
inconsistencies or significant variations in his use of such terms as aio@now dofa and 
pavtacia. 


One might as well argue that the tenth book of the 


In fact, however, Plato’s psychological 
He is content to make his meaning plain by the 


Aio@now is any immediate sensation or perception or consciousness including 
pleasure and pain and Locke’s inner sense.“ As sense-perception it is rightly said to 
involve judgment,” and so issues in éefa, opinion or belief.’ The word de&a may 
be used in this neutral, psychological sense; it may be taken unfavorably to denote 
mere opinion as opposed to knowledge, or favorably when true opinions and beliefs are 
set in antithesis to the appetites and instincts. These shades of meaning arise 
naturally out of Greek usage, and would call for no comment if they had not been cited 
to convict Plato of inconsistency or change. The mental process that terminates in 
the affirmation or negation that constitutes déa may be expressed in words, doyos,*° 
or take place in silent thought. In the second case it is édvova—a discourse in the 
soul." Avdvoa, then, mere or silent thought, may be opposed to speech’ or to 
thought accompanied or interrupted by sensation.” 
pure thought." 





It is thus often a synonym of 
But the Republic, in default of a better term,” employs it to denote 


336 Thecetet., 156 B, 186 DE, 152 BC; Phileb., 34A; Charm., 
159 A. 


337 Rep., 523B, as ixavas bro Tis aicPycews Kpwoueva, 
Phileb., 88.C, woAdAaxts iovte. , . . BovAeaPar xpiverw pains av 
7av0' arep opa, This is not quite the modern psychologist’s 
recognition of the judgment involved in perception, but it 
leads up to Aristotle’s characterization of sensation as 
Svvanw avudutov kpitixyv, Analyt. Post., in fine. 


338 Phileb., 88 B, é« wvnuns Te Kal aicOycews Sofa, Pheedo, 
éx TovTwy (sc. the senses) 6 yiyvorro pyjun Kai Sota, Charm., 
159A, aicOnow .... ef Hs Sofa, In Thecetet., 170B, adn6y 
Siavorcay .. . . Wevdy Sofav, diavo1a and Sofa are virtually 
synonyms. 

339 Phileb., 60D, wunpny Kai ppovnow xai adnOy dotav tis 
aurns ideas TUWenevos, Pheedr., 2837 D, eudutos emduuia..., 
énixtntos Sofa, Tim., 77B. In Thecetet., 187A, doéagew is 
almost the pure thought of Pheedo, 65C, 


340 Phileb., 88, xat Aoyos 6y yéeyovev ovtws 0 Tote dofav 
éxadoumev, 

341 Phileb., 38D; Theetet., 189E, 190A. Soph., 2635, 
Siavora ev Kat Adyos TaUTOV TAY O MEV EvTOS THS WUXIs Mpds a’THY 
Stadoyos, ete, 

342 Soph., 238 B, 264A, 

343 Thecetet., 195C D; Rep., 511 C, dcavoia péev..., dAAa WH 
aig@nceow, In Phedo, 73D, it is the (memory) imagination 
of modern psychology: xat év ty dtavoia EAaBov 7 eldos Tov 
ma.sos; in Rep., 603 C, it is the mind, including higher and 
lower faculties. 

344 Pheedo, 66A, cidAcxpivet tH Stavoia; 65H, avtd exacrov 
ScavonPqva. In Thecetet., 195 DE, we pass from an image 
of a man, 6v dcavoovpe80 povov, opanev 5’ ov, to abstractions as 
ta évdexa & wydev GAAo-y Stavocirai ms; cf. Rep., 526 A, Sv davon- 
Ojvar povov eyxwpet. 


345 533 D, ob mepi ovouaros aupioByrnats, 


173 


48 Tue Unity oF Puato’s THOUGHT 








the processes of mathematics and the sciences, which are inferior to the pure thought, 
voos, of dialectic, in that they depend on sensuous imagery and hypotheses.” 

Plato describes memory images,’ and images of ‘imagination.’ But he has 
no term for imagination as a faculty intermediate between abstract or verbal thought, 
on the one hand, and sense-perception, on the other. For ¢avtacia takes its color 
from gdaiverat and davtaferar, which include all forms of opinion and illusion, and it is 
often merely a disparaging synonym of d0&a.*° But gdaiverar, though applicable to 
any notion that appears true, is most naturally used of the appearances of sense, and 
so ¢avtacia is preferably the form of d0&a that accompanies sense-perception,” and 
may be defined as ovpukts aicOjncews Kai dcfas.”' Pure infallible knowledge as an 
ideal must be sharply distinguished even from true opinion.® Strictly speaking, it 
cannot be defined,* and is unattainable in this life. Poetically it may be described 
as the vision of the ideas, and we may be said to approximate to it in proportion as we 
“recollect” the ideas by severe dialectic.* Practically knowledge is true opinion, 
sifted and tested by dialectic, and fixed by causal reasoning.** ‘True opinion” may 
be disparaged in contrast with the ideal, or praised as a necessary stage toward its 
attainment.*’ It is a very mechanical criticism that finds contradiction or inconsist- 
ency here. 

There is no limit to the contradictions or developments that a false subtlety can 
discover in Plato’s psychology. Most of them are by implication explained away in 
the foregoing summary. I will close with two or three further examples which must 
stand for all. 

Susemihl* argues that the Theetetus marks an advance on the psychology of the 
Pheedrus because it includes Wahrnehmungsurtheile in Soxetv or de&a.*’ But the 
Theeetetus itself elsewhere attributes them to aio@nows, for only so could it identify 
Protagoras’s theory with the definition aic@now = émuotnpn. As we have seen, the 
distinction is futile, for aic@now may at any time be the modern sense-perception, 


l 358 


346 Rep., 511D, 534A. See Idea of Good, pp. 230 ff. 
347 Phileb., 89C; Phedo, 73D; Theeetet., 191 D, €ws av 


év7j To eldwaAov avrov, etc. 


348 Phileb., 39C, wept... . Tov pedAdvtwy; 40AB, and 
the fantastic account of the functions of the liver, Tim., 
71A B. Grote, expecting the modern atomistic order: sen- 
sation, image, idea, judgment, is surprised that in Phileb., 
39, memory and sensation first write Aoyot in the soul, and 
that, secondly, a painter supervenes who paints images of 
these Acyo. and the corresponding Sofa. But it is charac- 
teristic of Plato to put the image after the idea, the word, 
and the judgment everywhere. Moreover, the images here 
are not the primary images of perception, which are in- 
cluded in Plato’s aio@nors, but imaginative visualizations 
of beliefs and hopes. In the mature human mind this is 
probably the real order: (1) sensation (perception), (2) 
faint verbal judgments, (3) vivifying of specially interest- 
ing judgments by imaginative visualization. 


349 Thecvtet., 161 E, éAéyxeww tas adAnAwy pavragias Te Kat 
botas. 


350 Thecetet., 152 C, davtagia dpa Kai aigOnats Tavrov ev Te 
Oepnots kat mace Tots ToLovTaALs, Soph., 264 A, orav mn xa?’ avrnv 
GAAG bu’ aigOyjcews mapy TLvi Td ToLoUTOY ad maOos; i.e. it is here 
not a memory image, but a percept accompanied by belief. 


351 Soph., 264B. Hence here 263 D, ¢avtacia, and Phileb., 
40 A, davtagnata (—imaginations or imaged expectations) 
are said to admit truth and falsehood. Modern atomistic 
psychology sometimes conceives ‘‘ images’’ as mere pictures 
involving no affirmation or belief. Aristotle seems to ex- 
press this view in De Anima, 482a, 10, €or. & 9 havtacia 
érepov facews Kai amopacews, But in 428a, 12, thinking of 
Philebus, 40A B, he says, ai de davraciat yivovrat ai mAeious 
Wevdets. 


352 Tim., 51 DE. 


354 Pheedo, 66, 67; Laws, 897 D, as vodv more Ovnrois Supaciw 
oopevor, 


353 Thecetetus, infra; supra, p. 43. 


355 Supra, n. 323, 
857 Supra, n, 301, 
588 Neue Plat. Forsch., p. 52. 


356 Infra, on the Theeetet. 


909 209 fF. 
4 


PAauL SHOREY 49 





including judgment, and é0fa may always be used either of the belief that accompa- 
nies aic@novs, or of the operation of the mind as opposed to sensation. 

Campbell thinks the rejection in Politicus, 2810 D, of «addlornv Kai peylatny 
maca@v as a satisfactory definition is an advance on Thectet., 207 D, where the sun is 
defined as the brightest luminary, ete. But the point is simply that made “already” 
against Gorgias’s wéyota Tov avOpwre(ov Tpayuatov as a definition of the matter of 
rhetoric. Again, Campbell thinks the mention of 60€av and ¢avtaciay in Sophist, 
260 H, as distinct faculties implies an advance on the Theetetus. But the Theeetetus 
does not identify the words by using them once or twice as virtual synonyms. The 
Sophist, 264 A, temporarily distinguishes ¢avtacéa as a judgment present to the mind, 
&? aicOjcews,”' while d0fa is a judgment, év Wuyn Kata duavoray . . . . peta ovyis. 
But to press this would prove too much by distinguishing the Sophist from the late 
Philebus also. 

Lastly, Lutoslawski argues*®’ that the Phadrus and Thectetus are later than the 
Republic, because they familiarly employ dvvasus in a sense first explained in Republic, 
477C. He overlooks Protag., 330 A, and the five occurrences of the word in Char- 
mides, 168, in a passage fully as metaphysical and abstract as that cited from the 
Republic. Indeed, the case cited from the Phedrus, 246 D, wrepod dvvayus, is a mere 
periphrasis like 7 te rod mrepod duos, 248 C, and of the two cases from the Theetetus, 
158 E closely resembles the Charmides, using the word in the vague general sense of 
power or potentiality, and 185 C, 7 ye dua rhs yA@TTys Svvayus, uses it of the senses, as 
do the Charmides, 168 D (axon, dyus), the Republic, 477 C (byw Kal axorv), and the 
Protagoras, 330A (op@arpos dra). Of equal value are the developments which 
Lutoslawski finds in the use of dvarextix7, pirocopia péBodos, ) THY Adywv Téxvn, etc.” 


360 


PART II 


The dialogues were composed in some order, and a study of their parallels, coinci- 
dences, or variations in thought will often seem to indicate the plausible, possibly the 
real, historic sequence. That is not the purpose of this paper. I wish to show (1) 
that our conception of Plato’s philosophy is not appreciably affected by placing the 
dialectical dialogues—the Sophist, Politicus, Philebus, and possibly the Parmenides 
and Theetetus—after, rather than before, the Republic; (2) that the evidence is at 
present insufficient to date the dialogues of the “earlier” and “middle” Platonism, 
and that, again, from the point of view of the interpretation of the content, it does not 
greatly matter. The chief value of such negative results is that the way to them lies 
through a further positive interpretation of Plato’s true meanings. 

There are certain perennial puzzles of language or thought that present them- 


360 Gorg., 451 D E. “In earlier works Plato used the term soul as free from 

361 Of. Thecetet., 158C; supra, p. 48, n. 350. every ambiguity. Here we see already a trace of doubts 

e about the existence of the soul.” He might as well say 

362 Pp. 331, 396. that the existence of the soul is called in question by Crito, 

363 Of. the statement, p. 373, & propos of the innocent 48 A, éxetvo 6 7 wor’ €or, etc., or by Symp., 218 A, Thy xapdiay 
phrase, Thewtet., 184C, etre Wuxnv etre 6 te Set Kadecy that: Nn Wuxnv yap 7 OT dec Ovopacat, 


175 


50 Tue Unity or Piato’s THOUGHT 





selves to Plato in three forms: as mere eristic sophisms; as hindrances to a sound 
logical method; as serious problems of epistemology and metaphysics. They may be 
roughly enumerated as the problem of Being and not-Being, or the true nature of 
predication and negation; the antithesis in thought and things of the one and the 
many, the whole and the part, permanency and change, rest and motion; the nature 
and possibility of real knowledge, and the meaning of consciousness of self. They are 
all directly or indirectly involved in the theory of ideas, but we may also study them 
in the group of dialogues in which they are most prominent. 

The Euthydemus presents a broad burlesque of all the chief sophisms of eristic. 
The Parmenides systematically exposes all the antinomies concerning the one and the 
many, the whole and the part, rest and motion, that can be deduced from the abuse of 
the ambiguity of the copula. The Theewtetus covers with persiflage the forms of 
eristic associated with one-sided theories of knowledge, especially materialism and 
extreme Heracliteanism, and makes a serious effort to solve the epistemological prob- 
lem. Here perhaps, and here only, does the Socratic avowal of perplexity express 
Plato’s own state of mind. The Sophist makes explicit the lessons implied in the 
Parmenides and Thecetetus, and finally disposes of fourth-century eristic so far as it 
affects the presuppositions of practical logic and sound method. The Politicus applies 
the method of the Sophist to the definition of the true statesman, reaffirming from a 
different point of view, and perhaps with less confidence in the ideal, the chief doc- 
trines of the Republic. The Philebus restates the true logical method that emerges 
from eristic or metaphysical debate and applies it to the ethical problem of the 
summum bonum. 

We will begin with the Sophist, which contains the fullest exposition of method 
and the most explicit analysis of the fundamental eristic sophism. For our purpose 
there are three topics; (1) the method of definition by dichotomy; (2) the problem of 
Being and not-Being; (3) the logical and grammatical analysis of the sentence. 

1. The formal dichotomies of the Sophist and Politicus lend these dialogues a 
very un-Platonic aspect. They may be said to be characteristic of Plato’s “later” 
style, so far as this can be true of a feature that is less prominent in the Laws than it 
is in the Gorgias or Phedrus. Their significance for Plato’s later thought is very 
slight. To understand this we must distinguish the elaboration of a definition by 
successive dichotomies from the more general logical use of distinction, division, and 
classification. Aristotle is at great pains to prove that the method of dichotomy 
assumes and does not establish the definition.“* His criticism may have been needed 
against literal-minded pupils of the Academy. Plato obviously is amusing himself 
by playing with the method.” He clearly recognizes that formally correct dichoto- 
mies may lead to half-a-dozen definitions of the same object." All depends upon the 
tact with which the original ‘one,’ the concept to be divided, is chosen,” and the 


364 Anal. Pr., 31; Anal. Post., 11,5; Part. An.,1, 2 ff. 307 Ibid., 232 B, add’ avadaBwuev Ev mparov tay mepi Tov 
365 See Bonrvz, pp. 180 ff. coporny eipnucvwr, év yap Ti wor padiora KaTepavn avrov 
366 Soph., 231. PUCY 


176 


PauL SHOREY 51 








insight that selects at each turn” the most significant principle of subdivision. The 
process of dichotomy is only a mechanical aid to exhaustive search and the discovery 
of all relevant distinctions.*’ The elaboration of it as a method of definition in the 
Sophist and Politicus is a mere episode. It is not followed up in the Philebus, 
Timeeus, or Laws, and is therefore of no importance for Plato’s “later” thought. 

A very different thing is the broader use of the method for the avoidance of 
eristic equivocation and the correction of hasty generalization or inarticulate empiri- 
cism. To distinguish and divide for these purposes is still the only way ot clear 
thought and accurate speech, and Plato’s insistence upon it as the one principle of 
logical salvation is worthy of the keenest dialectician that ever lived. But in this 
larger use the method «a7 e/dn téuvew is by no means confined to the Sophist and 
Politicus. There are hints of it in the Symposium.” The Gorgias employs it with 
some ostentation.” It is found in the Phedo,” the Cratylus,’ and the Theatetus.™ 
Its terminology and use are familiar to the Republic.” Most explicit is the Phadrus, 
which not only makes an ostentatious display of divisions and subdivisions,” but 
describes the entire procedure of true method in language that closely resembles the 
summing up of the whole matter found in the Philebus.“ But side by side with 


368 Note xatideiv, Soph., 232 A; Polit., 266 E, ete. 375 397 B, ta dv0 eidy; 440 FE, 445C, In 454 A, eristic arises 


369The imagery of the Sophist and Politicus implies dca To py Svvacat Kar’ eidy Scacpovpevor TO Aeyomevov emLaKoTELY, 


Prasimrcnehoue) (C7 Soph, 25> Polit, 58 C,200H) 22, Vrectselyjas im Rolie, 2A~ Cy. Philed..11 Nj Soph, 233.D- 
Again, cf. Rep., 470 B, évo0 tavta Ta Ovonata..., ovTa em 
Svoww tivo Svapopaiv; 532 EB, cata mota bn €idy Sv€otyKev; with 
which cf. 504A; Phileb., 23D, and Polit., 260C, mv.... 
Téexvyv .. . . Oeateov et my dteaTyKev with context. Compare 
further 544C D, 7 Ts Kai év cider diahavet tivi Ketrae with 


ro ¢ntovmevoy ev SutAaciog. Ta viv ev TOS HuigEaL Eis TOTE 
moumoet Syteia@ar; Soph., 229D, ci atopov nbn €or wav, Twa 
éxov Siaipecw aéiav émwvunias; Phaedr., 227B, cat’ cid MEexpe 
Tov atpytov Téemvew; Phileb., 13, 14B, thy ToLwvy dvapopornta; 


Toe ear: - A Polit., 285 B, Suapopas . . . . omocamep ev eideor ketvrar; 580 D, 
c Symp., 205 9 age SETES PAS ETT OC C50 4 Sujpntac kata tpia cidy, oUTwW Kal WUXH . . « « TPLXT. 

pOptov aoprabev TO TEpi. . . . OL EY GAAY TpETOMEVOL , , . . OF 

8€ Kara év Te eldos idvtes. Cf. Polit., 262D, to wev.... ds & 376 244 B, 253 C, 270 B, 271 D. 

... . apatpoovtes ... . Kai yevos év avro elvat, Soph., 222A, 3771t is often affirmed (Jowett, Natorp, Jackson, Bury, 
éxtpéemecbov; Polit., 258C; Tim., 60 B, yevos ék mavtwv apopiofev; —_ etc.) that the method of the Philebus, Politicus, and Sophist 
Soph., 229 C, 257 C, 268 D. is more advanced than that of the Phaedrus, in which ‘the 


371454 E, dvo cidy O@mev, The two eiéy are denoted, as in complementary methods of generalization and division are 
the Sophist, by adjectives in -xés, 455A, frequent also in applied merely to the discovery of Socratic definitions 
pp. 464, 465. Socrates’s humorous definition of rhetoric, with a view to consistency in the use of debatable terms.” 
pp. 462 ff., is in the vein of the Sophist. It startsfrom the Well, the subject of the Phadrus being the necessity of 
alternative art (science) or not-art, 462BC, like Soph., basing rhetoric upon definitions and dialectic, that point 
219A; Polit., 258 B. It is found to be a branch of the is naturally emphasized there (26) D, i’ éxaotov optfopevos 
pseudo-art KoAaxevtixy, which is divided rétpaxa, corre- SyAov moy, Tepi ov av act didagKew EfEAN). But all theories 
sponding to a four-fold division of art obtained by two of a sharp distinction between the method of the Phadrus 
successive sub-divisions. Similarly Sophistic is finally and that of the “later” dialogues will only injure the 
found to be a part, oprov, Soph., 268 D, of the quadripartite scholarship of their propounders. The Phadrus requires 
bavtagtiKor, Thy OmoLoTyTAa ToY SvTwy decdévar (262A; cf. Soph., 231 A, dec 

a2 79 A, Oduev ... . dv6 cidn, etc.; 90B, dvev ris mepi Tovs aR) padvota mept Tas oicoLomnnas RROD: a puAdaxny; 
Adyous TExVNS; 79 D, ols EmcappayGoueda rovT0 0 €aTr, Cf, Phileb., Haiilebs Me ito dophis we. eR inow Ss Se eo 
26D; Polit., 258 C. tov ovtwv (262B). The method is twice described (265, 266, 
and 270D). We must first reduce to unity Ta ToAAayy dreo- 
mapneva (265D; cf. Phileb., 16D, act pia ideay mepi mavrTos 
éxaotote Oenéevous Snrewv; cf. 26D). This unity we are to 
divide xar’ dp§pa 7 mepuxe (269 E; cf. Polit., 262, and with 
karayvivat cf. Polit., 287 C, 265 D, xara@pavery) and subdivide 
(266 A, Témvwv od« erav7Ke), distinguishing and following up 

874147 D, éwecdy arecpor ro mAnOos ... . EvAAaBeiv eis Ev separately the right- and left-hand paths (266 A, dea... . 
(ef. Phileb., 18 B, 6rav tus To aretpov avayxacOy mpwtov Aan Ba- apiotepa; cf. Soph., 264 B, wopeveo#ar xara rom defra ae wEepos 
vewv, etc.) ; 147 E, tov aprOpov mavra diya dceAaBouer, etc. tov TunGertos), till the object of our search and of our praise 


V7 


313In 424C D, the division of letters xara eiSy and the 
subdivision of these eid is the method of Philebus, 18 BC. 
We are further required to examine the things to be named 
by letters and see ei €v avrois éveorw eidn, and then apply one 
set of eid to the other, precisely as in Phedrus, 277 B. 


or 
bo 


THe Unity oF Puato’s THOUGHT 





what seems to us the purely Icgical treatment of the ideas as conceptual genera and 
species, the Phedrus pictures the prenatal vision of them; the Republic announces 
the most naive realism with regard to any and every universal; and the Timeus sol- 
emnly reaffirms their objectivity.“* In the face of these facts, it is impossible to 
maintain that the dichotomies of the Sophist are evidence of a later doctrine in which 
the transcendental or naively realistic idea is discarded for the genera and species of 
The emphasis and center of interest may shift from dialogue to 
dialogue—the doctrine remains the same. 

But the opposition between the two points of view cannot be denied or disguised. 
The noumenal idea is one. But not only as reflected in things, but as subdivided by 
logic, it is many. By a natural and inevitable metaphor both Plato and Aristotle 
speak of particulars and lower species as parts of the higher conceptual whole to which 
they are subordinated. By the theory of ideas, as we have said, each of these parts, 
every subordinate concept, is an idea, not only the suwmmwm genus and the lowest 


conceptual logic. 


species, as animal and dog, but the intermediate groups, mammal and quadruped, ete. 
The Aristotelian objection that the one dog will thus embody a whole series of ideas 
we have dismissed with the metaphysics of the subject. The relation of the particular 
And once we have accepted the metaphors “presence,” 
“narticipation,” “pattern,” a number of ideas can be reflected by or present in one 


to the idea is a mystery. 


thing as easily as can one idea. 

But the elaboration of logical and scientific classification brings up the difficulty 
in a new and more specific form less easily evaded. For the theory of ideas any and 
every subordinate group apprehended as a conceptual unit by the mind is an idea.” 
For sound logical and scientific classification only true genera and species are ideas— 
not necessarily “true species” in the sense of the modern naturalist, but in the sense 
of the Platonic logic; that is, classes and groups based on significant and relevant 
distinctions. From the one point of view we expect every part to be an idea; from the 
other, Plato explicitly warns us against mistaking for true ideas what are mere frag- 


ments or parts.*’ His embarrassment shows that he felt the difficulty. Sound 


and blame is found (266A; cf. Soph., 235 C, Evvaxodovbety 
He who can thus 
look eis €y Kat éxi woAAa is a dialectician (266 BC; cf. Par- 
men., 132 A, pia tis tows Soxet idéa eivar emt mavta isovr; Soph., 


etc.; Polit., 285 A, etc.; Laws, 894A A, 963D, 965C. Each 
dialogue brings out some aspect of it less emphasized in 
the others. We cannot expect Plato to repeat himself 
verbatim. But these variations have little or no signifi- 
cance for the evolution of his thought. 


ait dtatpouvtas ... . €womep av Anpby). 


235 C, thy tov ottw Suvayéevwv wetrevac Kad” Exagta Te Kai én 
Again, looking at it from the point of view 
of science rather than of rhetoric and dialectic (270), the 
object of investigation is either simple or manifold. If 
it has many eiéy, we must enumerate them (270 D, ravra ap.d- 
pngapnevous; cf. Phileb., 16D, mpi av tis Tov apiOpov avTou 
TavTa katTiéy Tov petatv TOU ameipov Te Kai Tov évos), and treat 


y E0065 72 ©, 7 eo 
mavra 1<Bobov). 378 Supra, p. 35, n. 238; p. 37, n. 256, 

379 Rep., 596 A., 479 D; Soph., 225 C, ravra Oeréov pév eldos, 
éreimep avTo Siéyvwxey ws ETEpov dv Oo Adyos, aTap emwvumias.... 
ovTe viv Up’ yuay tuxetv akiov, Phileb.,18C D, the deonds of 
association in our minds makes a unity, and hence an idea 


each subordinate éy (cf. Phileb., 16D, nat tav év éxeivwv Exa- 
oTov mad woavtws) as we do the original unity—i. e., study 
its potentialities (évvaucs, active or passive; cf. Soph., 
247 D EF) in relation to other things. Rhetoric is a special 
psychological application of this general scientific method. 
It is one method which is described in Phardr., 265, 266, 
270D; Phileb., 16-18; Cratyl., 424C; Soph., 226 C, 285 C, 253, 


of ypapmarixy, 

380 Polit., 287 C, implied ‘already’ in Pheedr., 2655; 
cf. Polit., 262 B, aAAa To wépos Gua eléos éxérw, We are more 
likely to ‘meet with ideas’’ if we bisect the universal 
(uevoTouecv) and proceed by successive dichotomies, than if 
we attempt to separate the ultimate species at once. Cf. 
the insistence on Ta wéoa in Phileb,, 17 A. 


178 


PauL SHOREY 53 








method required him to emphasize the distinction. But he was quite unable to define 
its nature.“' The nominalistic logic of the modern “flowing philosophy” of evolution 
would meet the problem by making both “true species,” and the tentative species of 
imperfect or erroneous generalization alike relative to the purposes of man— working 
hypotheses, instruments of greater or less precision and range, employed by thought in 
the effort to shape in its own image or check for its own ends the ever-flowing stream 
of change. 

Plato would have preferred mystery and self-contradiction to this as an ultimate 
philosophy. But his logical practice approaches nearer to it than does any interme- 
diate compromise of common-sense from Aristotle to the nineteenth century. Psycho- 
logically and ontologically all universals, as opposed to sensations and images, are 
equally noumenal ideas, whether language provides a name for them or not.” In 
logical and scientific practice the only ideas worth recognizing, whether named or not, 
are those that embody significant distinctions relevant to the purpose in hand. The 
recognition that words are mere counters™ and do not always stand for (relevant) 
ideas®™ is an apparent, but not real, contradiction of the abbreviated formula of the 
Republic that we assume an idea for every word.*’ Similarly, as we have already 
seen, the occasional and inevitable use of conceptual language is no derogation from 
Plato’s philosophic realism. Practical logic and psychology must treat ideas as con- 
cepts, whatever else or more they may be. 

2. The puzzle that false speech and erring opinion are impossible because we 
cannot say or opine that which is not, is nothing, must be translated into Greek to 
win even a semblance of seriousness. To appreciate Plato’s achievement in disposing 
of it forever we must have studied it in the poem of Parmenides and in the eristic 
of the fourth century.“ Our problem here is the seeming contradiction between 
the Republic and the Sophist. The Republic distinctly avers that it is impossible 
even to opine that which is not—thus apparently yielding to the fallacy.” The 
admirable analysis of the Parmenides and the Sophist explains it by pointing out 
that is, in its double function of copula and substantive verb, is ambiguous,” and 
that this ambiguity extends to the convenient Greek idiomatical use of the parti- 


381 Polit., 263 AB, to distinguish genus (or species) and 386596 A. The common name of zoAAa does imply a con- 
part would require a long discussion. He can only say ceptual é, which implies an idea, though it may not be 
that, while every species is a part, every part is not a relevant or worth while (aé.ov érwvupias) for the classifica- 
species (cidos). tion or purpose in hand. 

882. Supra, p. 37, n. 250. 387 B. g., Pheedr., 263 D E, jveynacev jas vrodaBev ... 

883 Rep., 445 C, 544 A D, 7 tiva aAAnv Exers Seay modActeias, €vy tt Tov ovtwv, ete.; Polit., 258C, dvo cién SiavonPyvac thy 
Hrs Kat ev elder Srapaver trvi xecrar; Tim., 83C, eis moAAa pev Wouxhy yav morjoa; Phileb., 18C D, 23E, vonca, mp more jv 
Kat avojova BAeretv, Opav dé Ev avtois év yevos évov aktov emwvu- avtay év Kai TOAAG Exatepov, See supra, p. 39, n. 264. 


pias; Soph., 229 D, 9 Twa Exov Scaipeow atiav éemwvupias; 223 A, 388 9 " 
225 C, 267 D, names for ideas often fail because the ancients Bea chdidky VLSI Wipe Ose) VO bIOS ih 


were neglectful of tis Tav yevayv kar’ cidy Siatperews, Polit., 200 ff. 
260 B, avevupoy .... dvoua Erepov avrois mapaxwpycavtes Oeabar 389478 B. Cf. Parmen., 132 BC, 142 A, 164A, 166A; 
twa; 261 E, 7d wy orovdaderv eri trols dvopact, 263 C. Thecetet., 167 A, 188 D. 
384‘*Already,’’? Charm., 163D; Polit., 261E; Thectet., 390 Parmen., 142 C, viv 5€ ov« atitn eotiv n UmdBeats, ct Ev 
168 B, 184 C; Soph., 218 C; Laws, 627 D, and passim. év.... Gad’ ef &v Eat; 163.0, 70 5€ wi EoTw ... . dpa py Te GAAO 
385 Soph., 217A; Polit., 263C, ore mae tavrov émovomagew onaiver 7 ovotas amovoiav; 162 A B, with my interpretation, 
€oxes Gvoua; Rep., 404 A, A.J. P., Vol. XII, pp. 349 ff.; Sophist., 256 D E ff.; Tim., 38 B. 


179 


54 THe Unity or PLaAto’s THouUGHT 





ciple—év and p dv, dvta and pa dvta; that wy dv is not nonentity, but otherness; 
not nothing, but some other thing.”’ If we can show that other dialogues, pre- 
sumably earlier than, or contemporary with, the Republic, ridicule the fallacy, or imply 
the answer to it given in the Sophist, we have established a prima facie presumption 
for an interpretation of the Republic that will remove the contradiction.” This is 
the case. In the Euthydemus the my dv puzzle is one of the stock fallacies of the 
eristics. To desire to make Kleinias wise is to wish to make him other than he is, 
what he is not—not to be. The suggestion enrages Ctesippus, but Socrates bids him 
bi ovopate SiadépecOa.*” And when the quibble is further invoked in support of the 
paradox that wWevd) rAé€yew and wevdys dcefa are impossible, since we cannot opine or 
say what is not, Socrates observes that this opinion refutes itself as well as all others, 
and declines to take it seriously.“ In the Cratylus Cratylus argues by a fallacy, else- 
where exemplified in Plato,” that a bad law is no law, an unapt name is no name, and 
a false statement is no statement, because it is TO 4» Ta dvta Aéyev.”” Socrates dryly 
observes that this thesis, though it has many supporters, is too subtle for him,” and 
then proceeds to offer a perfectly sufficient practical explanation of the difficulty by 
means of an illustration analogous to the image employed in the Theetetus™ to 
account for certain forms of mental confusion. As you may wrongly assign A’s pic- 
ture to B and B’s to A, so in the use of terms it is possible to apply X to A and Y to B 
when the opposite distribution would be correct, and, in the case of words, true.” 
This explanation Cratylus is urged to accept in order to avoid (eristic) debate, fva mA 
payopela ev trois Aoyos.*” And when he yields, Socrates commends him on the 
ground that this is not the place to argue the question.” There is a further anticipation 
of the Sophist in the suggestion that those who insist on the quibble are oyipmabeis.“” 


391It is true that Plato nowhere states the ambiguity most effective analysis of the fallacy in the form in which 
of the copula with the explicitness of Aristotle and John Greek usage presented it. Plato is, for the rest, aware of 
Stuart Mill. But the passages cited in the preceding note the distinction between contradictory and contrary op- 
prove that he understood it perfectly. Grote, in his criti- position (Symp., 201 E; Parmen., 160B C; Soph., 257 B, ov« 
cism of the Sophist, objects (1) that Plato fails to distin- ap’, €vavtiov oTav amopaats A€ynTat onpaivew ovyxwpycoueda), 
guish éo7.v in its function of pure and simple copula; (2) and he understands the use of elvat as a copula, though the 
that the (absolute) other of Being is just as meaningless religious and metaphysical associations of ‘‘ Being ” cause 
as absolute not-Being; (3) that negation is something dif- him to stigmatize it as “inexact” (Tim., 38 B). 
ferent from otherness, and that to define it as otherness is 392 My task would be much simplified if I could accept 
to confuse the distinction between contrary and contra- Narorp’s view (Hermes, Vol. XXXV, p. 425), that the rela- 
dictory. These criticisms ignore the difference between tive Being of the Sophist is distinctly anticipated in 
Greek and English idiom, the necessity that Platofelt of — pyedo, 79 A, Svo cid Tav SyTwy To Mev Oparov, To be devdés. But 
meeting the m7 ov fallacy in its own terminology, and the zw» is not to be pressed here. 
religious or ontological associations which half playfully, 393 Kuthyd., 283, 285 A. 
half seriously, he was resolved to preserve for eivar. 70 “7 


6v, besides its ontological meaning, can be naturally used 394286 C, where, as in the Thecetet., it is attributed to 
in Greek idiom as a mere category embracing all particular | Protagoras with a malicious allusion to aAyGea, 

cases of (a) negative predication, (b) misstatement. Any 895 429 B; cf. Hipp. major, 281 E; Minos, 314 D ff. 
particular “7 6v is something other than the corresponding 396 429 D, 


év; and, generalizing, Plato may say that “» ov is the other 


; ; ; ae 307 0 év 0 Ao y) * éue, ete.; ef. Soph., 2 H 
of the 6v without implying that it is the other of absolute KO WOrepes: Heh CO ASV Osan) RETA CHA NeLOs> Cans ie- yest 


Being. For the same reason, in explaining the nature of 398194 B 

errorand misstatement, he is justified in substituting for 399 430 D, emi S€ rots Ovowace mpos 7H OpOHy Kai aAnO7. 

the general category »y 6v a concrete (affirmative) mis- 400 430 D. 401 431 A, 

statement, ‘ Themtetus flies.” It all sounds crude enough, 402 433 A, Sdfwuev adty 77 dAnPeca olitw mws EAnAVOEvar dYral 


if we think it only through English idiom. Butit wasthe  rtepov rov d¢ovros. Cf. Soph., 251 B, 259 D. 


180 


PauL SHOREY 55 





It is obvious (1) that the fallacy is none to Plato; (2) that he feels himself able to 
carry the analysis farther; (3) that he does not do so because he wishes to write the 
Cratylus, not the Sophist. 

In the Theetetus the matter is somewhat more complicated. As we shall show 
more fully below, the object of the Theatctus is not to refute or analyze the logical 
fallacy that false opinion is impossible, but to explain the psychological nature of 
error, and with it of cognition: té mor’ éotl todTo 7 aos map’ jpiv Kal Tiva Tporov 
eyyeyvopevov. For this the i) dv quibble would have been wholly unfruitful. But it 
could not be altogether ignored. Hence it is perfunctorily dismissed in a page with 
the admission that the method of eivae and p27) eivae offers no explanation of error, since 
6 dokdbav &v re SoEdber, and 6 pndev doEatov 10 waparray ov6é boEdfea."" We are thus left 
But it is absurd to 
suppose that Socrates is really baffled in the Theetetus by a fallacy at which he 
laughs in the Huthydemus and Cratylus. And his real opinion of it is sufficiently 
indicated by his attribution of it to Protagoras in this very dialogue." 

The final analysis of the fallacy in the Sophist is introduced and accompanied by 
persiflage in the manner of the Huthydemus and Cratylus, and by hints that it is a 


mere eristic puzzle.” The final common-sense formula that true speech and opinion 
407 


free to pursue the psychological analysis cata TO eldévat Kal fA). 


represent Ta dvta as éxet or os éo7 is not new.” It evades the psychological prob- 
lems of the Thectetus, and it is reached by arguments purely logical and practical. 
If we do not admit that 4 6v normally means otherness rather than non-existence, we 
shall make all rational speech and thought impossible.“ The absolute dv (and p17 ov) 
of the Parmenides to which no intelligible predicates attach is reserved for ontology 
and mysticism.” But év tots map npuiv doyos (251 D) we must accept a doctrine of 
mixed and relative Being and not-Being.” 

The result of the inquiry is that, if Plato in the Republic falls into this fallacy, 
the Republic must be earlier and less mature, not only than the Sophist, but than the 
Euthydemus and the Cratylus. But Plato does not yield to the fallacy in the Repub- 
lic. He merely varies his terminology to suit his theme. He needs the transcendental 
absolute Being for the world of ideas as opposed to the world of sense, for the sym- 
bolism of the idea of Good, the image of the sun, the cave, and the conversion from 
the shadows to the realities. It would have been singularly tactless to preface these 
passages with an explanation that év, like wy ov, is a relative term, and that all dvta 
with which human logic can deal are likewise 7) 6vra. There is no occasion for the 


évra and pi) dvta of practical logic here. 


403 187 D. 404188, 189 A. 

405 In Soerates’s ironical defense of ultra-Protagorean- 
ism, 167A, ovre yap Ta my OvrTa dSuvarov dofaca, ovTE aAAa Trap’ 
dav racxn. Cf. Cratyl., 286C. 

406 236 E, évavtiodoyia my ovvexerba, etc.; 237 BC; 239 B, 
gue... . maAar Kai Ta VOY HTTHMEVOY av eUpoL Tepi TOY TOU KH 
évros Edeyxor, etc.; cf. 242 A, 243A B, 252C. Note also the 
close parallelism of this part of the Sophist with the inten- 
tional fallacies of the Parmenides, infra, pp. 58, 59. 


Absolute not-Being is consigned to total 


407 263 B, Ayer 6é avtov 6 pév dAnOis Ta OvTA ws ETL TEpi TOU, 
Cf. Cratyl., 385 B, os av ra bvTa Aéyy ws Eat adnOyns; Huthydem., 
284 C, adda Ta dvTa meév TpoTOV TLVa A€yeL, OV LEVTOL WS ye EXEL, 

408 238 C, 239 B, 249 B C, 252 C, 259 A, 6 dé vor clpyxamev eivac 
Td pH dv, 7 TELTaTw Tis Ws OV KaAd@s Aéyouev EA€yEaS 7 MEXPL TEP 
ay aduvary, Aextéov Kai exeivw Kabarep jueis, etc., 260 A, 

409258 E; cf. supra, p. 39. 

410 251 A, 254C D, 259A B. 


181 


ot 
for) 


THE UNITY oF PLATO’s THOUGHT 





ignorance as it is in the Sophist..’ Pure Being is reserved for the ideas, as it is in 
the Timceus, which was written at a time when the results of the Sophist were cer- 
tainly familiar to Plato. Its antithesis, the world of phenomena, is described as tum- 
bling about between Being and not-Being—as a mixture of the two; the things of 
sense are always changing—they are and are not.” It is not necessary to dash the 
spirit of mystic contemplation and enthusiasm by the reminder that the ideas them- 
selves, when drawn down into the process of human thought, move to and fro and 
partake of both Being and not-Being.** We are concerned here only with the broad 
To say that the objects of sense and the notions of 
the vulgar tumble about between Being and not-Being, is merely another way of saying 
that they belong to the domain of the mixed or relative Being and not-Being described 
in the Sophist.“* Only a deplorably matter-of-fact criticism can find in this adapta- 
tion of the terminology to the immediate literary purpose a concession to a fallacy 


contrast between the two worlds. 


ridiculed throughout the dialogues. And the arguments that would prove the results of 
the Sophist unknown to the author of the Republic would apply almost equally to the 
Timeus; for there, too, Plato calmly reinstates the absolute dv which the Sophist 
banishes from human speech as no less contradictory than the absolute p dv, and 
treats as an inaccuracy the expression 70 s dv pi) dv eivat, the practical necessity of 
which the Sophist demonstrates. Yet the treatment of the “same” and the “other” 
in the Yvyoyovia (35) proves that the analysis of the Sophist was familiar to the 
author of the Timeus. 

3. The explicit discrimination of dvéwara as names of agents and of pryjata as 
names of actions is peculiar to Sophist, 262. So the special definition of dvavoa is 
confined to the Republic,”’ and nearly every dialogue employs some definition or 
distinction which Plato does not happen to need again. Even if we concede that this 
greater explicitness of grammatical and logical analysis marks the Sophist as late, its 
significance for the development of Plato’s thought is slight. It is not repeated in 
the Politicus or Laws,™ and it is virtually anticipated in the Cratylus, where it is 
* It is barely possible, but 
not necessary, to take pyuata here in the sense of “expression” or “phrase.” Even 
then it must include the verb. For évoya is plainly used in the sense of “name” or 
Lutoslawski’s argument” that “it would be unjustifiable to apply to the 
The 


expression (425 A), cal cvAdaBas ad ouvTibévtes €E Ov Ta TE OVOMaTA Kal TA pymaTa 


415 


twice said that Aeyos is composed of pyuata and dvépata.” 


“noun.” 


Cratylus a definition given only in the Sophist,” obviously begs the question. 


; ae, ap : 
ovv7GevTat, seems to put dveuata and pyjuwata on the same plane and is unfavorable to 


414 Cf, A. J. P., Vol. IX, p. 307. 
415 Tim., 88 A B. 416 Supra, n. 346. 


411477 A, wh Ov pydany; 478 DE, tod ravtws wn ovtos. Not 
foreseeing modern philology, Plato did not think it neces- 


sary to add ravtws or wydauy a third time in 478 B; when he 
asks 9 aévvarov cat dofaca 7d py Ov, Which LUTOSLAWSKT, 
p. 429, thinks would be unaccountable coming after the 
inquiry of the Sophist. Similarly ApELT (Beitrdge). 

M2479 BCD. 

413 Though it is hinted in the aAAyjAwv cowwria of 476 A; 
cf. supra, p. 36, n. 244. 


18 


417 Lutoslawski is mistaken in saying that pyua is used 
in the distinctive sense of predicate in Polit., 3083C, and 
Laws, 838B. In both places it means “saying,” “state- 
ment.” 

418425 A, 431 C, Adyou yap mov ws éy@uat, 9 TovTwH EvVOETis 
éoTw, 

419 P, 431, 
2 


ra 


PauL SHOREY 57 





the notion of a progression from syllables to words, and from words to phrases and 
sentences. In 431 B, if pjwata means “verbs” or “predicates,” 
statement that they as well as ovewata may be falsely applied. 
application of phrases? And if we evade this difficulty by taking pjyata as “sentences,” 
then Adyou must mean, not “sentences,” but “discourses,” and what is a false attribu- 
In fact, it would be easy to argue that the Cratylus takes for 
Our concern is not with 


we understand the 
But what is a false 


tion of discourses ? 
granted the results of the Sophist and is therefore later. 
such “arguments,” but merely to show that, conceding the utmost that the texts will 
bear, the difference very slightly affects the relative maturity of the thought in the 
two dialogues.” 

THE PARMENIDES 


A great deal of ink has been spilled over the Parmenides, and the profoundest 
mystical meanings have been discovered in its symmetrical antinomies.“’ To rational 
criticism nothing can be more certain than that they are in the main a logical exer- 
citation more nearly akin to the Huthydemus and the Sophist than to the Timeus, 
and that they are not meant to be taken seriously except in so far as they teach by 
indirection precisely the logic of common-sense expounded in the Sophist.” In 
style, however, the Parmenides presents few, if any, traces of the elaborate “late” 
manner of the Sophist,"” and this fact makes the identity of doctrine the more signifi- 
Both the Theetetus and the Sophist allude to a meeting between Socrates and 
* The method of argumentation employed is characterized in the Phadrus 
Many passages closely 


cant. 
Parmenides.” 
as a kind of rhetoric, and in the Sophist as mere eristic.*” 
resemble arguments and expressions which are ridiculed in the Thewtetus and Sophist, 


and which are presumably not serious here.” 


420 Of. supra, p. 33, n. 218. The further points made by 
Lutoslawski are nearly all misapprehensions. He says 
that the admission that philosophic teaching may be 
given by continuous lecture, as well as by the method of 
question and answer, is first found in 217C. But Thectet., 
167 D, recognizes the same choice. The meaning of peGodos 
in Soph., 227 A, is not more definite than that in Phedr., 
270 D, and Rep., 533 C ff., except in so far as the method of 
the Sophist and Politicus lays more stress on the mere mech- 
anism of definition by dichotomy. Cf. supra, n. 377. The 
notion of logical exercise is not new here, but is found in 
Meno, 75 A, tva cat yevntat oor pedern, etc., and is implied in 
Theeetet., 147 A ff. Dialectic in the Republic is as clearly 
the science of the division of notions as it is in the Phedrus 
and Sophist. See 454 A, 535 B, supra, n. 365. See also on 
Svvapuis, supra, p. 49; and on the ideas as souls, supra, p. 39. 

421 Bury on “Later Platonism,” Jour. of Phil., Vol. 
XXIII, pp. 161 ff., gives a useful summary of recent discus- 
sions. 

422 Cf. supra, p.d4. De Plat. idearum doctrina, pp. 41 ff. ; 
A, J. P., Vol. TX, pp. 185, 290 ff. 

423 NaTorP, Archiv, Vol. XII. 

424 Theetet., 183 E; Soph., 217C, Hither allusion might 
precede or follow the actual composition of the Parme- 
nides. NATORP, Archiv, Vol. XII, pp. 291, 163, supposes that 


The dialogue itself abounds in hints 


Plato at the time of Thectet., 183 E, intended to discuss 
rest and motion, but, writing the Parmenides much later, 
changed his mind and devoted Part I to objections to the 
ideas, and Part IJ to metaphysical problems still debated. 

425 Pheedr., 261 D, tov otv ‘EAcatixov Hadapuydny (Zeno?) 
A€yovta ovK tomev Texvy WoTe Paiveabar Tols axovovot Ta avTa 
Omota Kat avopota, Kat év Kat moAAa, etc. Soph., 299. It is 
equally foolish to deny or to take seriously the antinomies 
(€vavtwwoeowv) that arise from the communion of ideas and 
the relativity of 6v, uy 6v, and @atepov, Cf, 259 D, 70 be tadrov 
ETEpov amopaivery any ye TY...» Kal TO MEya GMLKpoV Kai TO 
Omorov avonorov , , , . ovTE Tis EAeyXOS OTOS aAnOivos, etc. 
Such contradictions are nothing difficult when one knows 
the trick. 259C, etre ws te xaAerov Katavevonxas. Cf. Parmen., 
159 A, kat wavta ta evavtia may ovKETL XaAETMs EVpygoneEV, and 
Socrates’s congratulations to the Sophists in the Huthyde- 
mus on the ease with which Ctesippus picked up their 
method (303 E). 

426 2. g., the quibble, Purmen., 147 D ff. (of which Alice’s 
‘“jam every other day’’ is the only English analogue), that 
the ‘“‘other”’ is the ‘‘same” because the word €repoy in 
Greek idiom applies to both, and the word must refer to 
the same essence. This is parodied by Socrates in Futhy- 
dem., 301 B, and explained in Thecetet., 190 E, éwecdn 70 pnua 
ETEpOV TO ETEPW KaTa pywa TavTov eot.v, The extension of this 
reasoning to the avozorraroy is deprecated as eristic in 


183 


58 Tue Unity oF Puiato’s THOUGHT 





to that effect. It is recited by one whose light has gone out more completely than 
that of Heraclitus’s sun, and who now is devoted to horsemanship.“’ Parmenides 
himself characterizes it as a kind of intellectual gymnastics which it would be unseemly 
to practice in the presence of the uninitiated, and explicitly terms it a tpayuate@dy 


, 
maouav.” 


He chooses as his respondent the youngest interlocutor, on the ground that 
he will be least likely +oAv7paypovetv — that is, to interrupt the flow of plausible ratio- 
cination by distinctions like those with which Socrates checked the stream of fallacy 
in the Euthydemus.” 

These are probabilities. The proof is that the fallacies are symmetrically 
deduced by a systematic abuse of the ambiguity of the copula, and that Plato gives us 
clear warning of this at each turn in the argument. The symmetry is of course not 
perfect, and there are various minor fallacies that arise from other equivocations. An 
analysis full enough to show this in detail would defeat its own object by wearying 
the reader and obscuring the main design, which is not open to debate.“ The 
groups of contradictory conclusions deduced from the hypothesis that the One is and 
that the One is not derive almost wholly from the equivocal meaning of ‘is”—from 
taking “is” or ‘‘is not” to signify now the absolute uncommunicating Being or not- 
Being which the Sophist dismisses as impracticable, and now the relative Being and 
not-Being, or otherness, which the Sophist establishes as the only tenable use of the 
terms in human logic. And near the beginning of each hypothesis we are distinctly 
warned of the sense in which “is”? and “is not” must be taken.“’ This is perhaps 
sufficient; but another way of putting it will bring out the parallelism with the Sophist 
still more clearly. The eristic combated in the Sophist may be resumed in two fallacies: 
(1) The noumenal unity of the idea is incompatible with any suggestion of change, rela- 
tion, or multiplicity. The ideas will not communicate or mix. Predication is impossible. 
You cannot say, “Man is good,” but only, ““Man is man” and ‘Good is good.” 


Phileb., 13D. The Parmen., 148 A, infers that xar’ airo 
Now, it is precisely the func- 
tion of deceptive rhetoric mav mavti onocodv, Phcedr., 261 E; 
and it is precisely this that the Sophist, 259D, and the 
Philebus, 13 A, stigmatize as eristic. Similarly the antino- 
mies of whole and part in 137 C D, 144 E, 145 E, 157 E, 159C D, 
recall Thecetet., 204, 205, and Soph., 245. On rest and motion 
cf. 1389B with Soph., 250 C, 146 A, 156 E, 162 E, with 255 E; 
Thecetet., 181-3. In Theetet., 180D, the words iva kai oi 
OKUTOTOMOL . . , . TMAVTWYTAL HALBiws OloMEVOL Ta MEV EGTaVaL, TA 
6€ xiveio@at tov bvtwv, Show Plato’s real opinion of these 


430 LUTOSLAWSKI, p. 418, misunderstands this, saying: 
“Tt is only in the Parmenides that discussion (woAumpay- 
poveiv) is declared useless.” 


TOUTO amay amact O“oLoy ay Ein. 


431 See APELT, Beitrdge. 
432 (1) 187 D, et €v €orac 7d Ev; (2) 142C, viv Se oby air 
- ; (4) 157C, 


ovde pny oTEpeTat ye TavTamagt TOU Evos TaAAG, GAAG meETEXEL TH 


€oTv 7 UTdbcots ci Ev ev... , GAA’ ELeveoTW ., . 

. +. 5 contra (5), 159B,"Ap’ obv ob ywpis mév 7d Ev Ta aAAwP, 
xwpis 5€ TdAAa To evos eivac; (6) 1G0C, ote Erepov Te A€you Td 
Hn Ov, Orav eimp Ev et wy EaTL, Kai iopev 6 A€yee (Cf. Soph., 


237 B) 160 E, eivar wév Sy TO Evi ody olov Te... « meTeXerw Sé 


absolute antinomies; cf. Soph., 249C D. For the negation 
of all intelligible predicates cf. 142A, 164B; Soph., 248 C; 
Theetet., 157B. In general the Parmenides exemplifies 
what the Sophist terms, 245 E, rovs . . . . dtaxptBoAoyoupevous 
OVTOS TE TEPL Kai 47, 


427128 C, 


428135 D,136 DE. The Euthydemus hints that listening 
to eristic may be a useful discipline. This is the meaning 
of the intervention of the daiuomoyv, 272 E, and of 305 D, often 
misunderstood. 


429 137 B. 


moAA@v ovdév KwAver, From this ovoias weréxey and then 
elvat ny Ov are deduced; contra (7) 163 C, 70 dé wy EoT . . . . 
dpa «uy Te GAAO onpaiver H OVGLas amovoiav; (cf. AR., Met., 
1004a, 15). 

433251 E, 259 E, 251C; Thecetet., 201 E-202A. The cidav 
iror, 248 A (cf, 246 B, 248 E), represent not so much a par- 
ticular school as a generalized tendency of thought. They 
are literal-minded Platonists or Eleatics who introduce 
into logic Plato’s (and Parmenides’s) poetical absolutism, 
Plato’s criticism is not a recantation of ‘‘earlier’’ Plato- 
nism, for their dogma in Soph., 248 C, is precisely what Plato 
himself says in Tim., 38 A; cf. supra, p. 89. 


184 


PauL SHOREY 59 





(2) The negative “is not” denotes absolute non-existence, which is unutterable and 
unthinkable.“ Plato answers in substance: (1) We must admit the mixture of 
ideas, the seeming multiplication of one idea by communion with others, as a condi- 
tion of intelligible speech. Without it we cannot even predicate existence, identity, 
and diversity.’ (2) Absolute not-Being is no more nor less a problem than absolute 
Being.” The only not-Being that finds a place in intelligible speech is otherness — 
that which is not this, but is some other thing.“’ Now, in the eight or nine“ 
hypotheses of the Parmenides these two principles are alternately and systematically 
violated and recognized—the consequences in each case being drawn out in exact 
parallelism to those indicated in the Sophist. In the absolute theses the ideas are 
* The one has no parts, and the exclusion 
of parts is found to shut out all predicates that imply multiplicity, space, time, or 
number.’ And since these are the forms in which Being appears,“ we cannot even 
say that it is.’ There is neither knowledge nor speech of it.’ In the absolute 
negative theses 7) dv is taken to exclude every sense of eivac, with a similar result. 
In the hypotheses concerned with relative Being and not-Being the reasoning is 
reversed. If we speak of wnum and alia, we imply existence in some sense. The 
existent one is two (unity and existence), has parts, and so by necessary implications 
is clothed in all the predicates of space, time, and relation.” Instead of abiding in 
isolation, the one everywhere united with essence, ovoda, is divided up among the 
indefinite multiplicity of évra.“* And it is explicitly affirmed that this is true of the 
most abstract and ideal unity that we can conceive.“ Similarly, starting from the 
assumption that p% dv (or wy) &v) means something, and something different,’ we 
deduce first ‘‘ participation” in various predicates,“” and finally the defiant paradox of 
the Sophist that yu) év éor.*” The doctrine of these relative hypotheses is that of the 
Sophist. The reasoning of the absolute hypotheses is that of the preliminary azropéiac 


taken in self-identity, in isolation, yops. 


434238 C -241 A, etc. 

435 252 C, 256 A B, 259 E, ete. 

436 250 D E, 258 E. 

437 257 ff, 

438 The third €ére 5y 10 tpirov Aéywuev, 155 E, stands by 
itself. It is in some sort a reconciliation of the contradic- 
tions of the first two, and, by implication, of all. 


442141 E, o¥8’ dpa ovtws éotw wate éy elvar, Damascius 
says that Plato does not negate év of év, but SIMPLICIUS, 
Phys., 88, 32, contradicts him, 

443.142 A; cf. Soph., 248C ff. 

444163 .C, 164 B, ot tw 5% Ev ovx Oy odK Exer Tws OvSapuy. 

445142. C, ds aGAAo Te onmatvov To Eote TOU EV... . TOLOUTOV 
ov To év onmaivery olov pepy Exec, etc.; cf. Soph., 244 D ff. 


446144 B, emi mavta dpa moAAa GvTa  ovoia veveunrat, etc.; 
439137 C, 139E, tov S€ ye évos xwpis efavn thy piow To 


tavrov, 140 A, 159 B, “Ap oty od xwpis mev To év TY aAAwy, etc. 
Cf. Buthyd., 284A, év pny Kaxeivo y' éori Tov dvTwY, © A€éyer 
Xwpis Tov ddAwv., Thecetet., 205 C, dort ato Kad’ avtd Exactov 
cin aovvOeTov, Kat ovde TO Elvat TEpi alTOU OpAds Exor MpoTpEepovTa 
eimetv. Another form of this fallacy, mav amd mavtos xwpiger, 
appears in the Protagorean doctrine: Cratyl., 385 E, idia 
avTav 7 ovoia elvat exaotw; Thecetet., 166C, idiar aicPycers 
éxaotw nuav yiyvovtat, Absolutism, whether sensational or 
verbal and ideal, destroys rational thought, and is refuted 
by pushing it to the extreme where this is apparent. 


440137C-142A. Similar results follow for 7éAAa from 
taking év xwpis and without parts 159 B-160A, 


441 Tim., 52 B. 


144, mpos aravte dpa éxaoTw Tw Tis OVTLas mEepEL TpOTETTL TO 
év- Cf. Soph., 245, 256 D E, 258 D E. 

447144 E, ob udvov dpa rd Gy Ev moAAG tot aAAa Kai alto 70 
év dro Tov Svtos Siavevennuevov; cf. 143A. Republic, 525 E, 
however, points out that thought must restore the abstract 
unity as fast as analysis divides it: aAA’ av ov Kepuarigns 
avro, éxetvo. ToAAatAagtovaw, evAaBovmevor ey Tote havy TO Ev 
pn év aAAa moAAG popta, For the use of xepuarigw here and in 
the Parmenides, cf. Soph., 258 D. 

448 160. C, ore Erepov A€yer TO MH OV... 

449161 A, 158 A, Soph., 255 A B. 

450162 A, Set dpa avira Seopuov Exery ToD My elvar To elvar wy Ov, 
For the indispensable emendation of what follows, see my 
note in A. J. P., Vol. XII, pp. 349 ff, 


. Kai topev 6 A€yet, 


185 


60 THe Unity or Puato’s THovuGcHT 








in Sophist, 237-46, and it is well described in Thezetetus’s language there (246 E): 
cuvarrtetat yap Etepov €& adAov, mello Kal yarerwtépay pépov trepl Tov Eumpocbev ael 
pnO&tov mravny. 

In view of these facts, it is idle to attempt to date the Parmenides and the 
Sophist by their philosophical content. The substantial identity of doctrine does not, 
of course, exclude many minor differences in the literary form and the secondary pur- 
poses of the two dialogues. One object of the Parmenides, for example, is to illus- 
trate exhaustively the ‘‘ both and neither ” of the eristic caricatured in the Huthydemus. 
The absolute hypotheses issue in blank negation. In order to make the “both and 
neither” plausible, some reasoning from the absolute point of view is introduced into 
the relative hypotheses.’ Again, it is not easy to say how much importance Plato 
attached to the third division of the argument in which the contradictions of the first 
two hypotheses, and, by implication, of all the others, are resolved. Contradictory predi- 
cates (the ‘“‘both’’) can be true simultaneously—they belong to different times. The 
‘‘neither” belongs to the instantaneous moment of transition, the ‘‘sudden” which is 
outside of time altogether.“’ It would be possible to read a plausible psychological 
meaning into this ingenious solution of the Zenonian problem of change.“ But it 
cannot easily be translated into the terminology of the theory of ideas. Pure Being 
admits of neither of the contradictory predicates, and the ideas as nowmena are out- 
side of space and time. But the ‘‘one” which is here spoken of as out of time, and 
without predicates at the moment of transition, is apparently not the idea, but any one 
thing which may participate in the ideas. This consideration, and the fact that the 
é£aidvns is never mentioned again, seem to indicate that it was only a passing fancy. 

Lastly, though the main object of the dialogue is the illustration of the ambi- 
guity of the copula, and the fallacy of isolating the ideas, the one is in some passages 
a representative of the Platonic idea, and in others of the absolute Being which 
ontology and mysticism recognize even after its banishment from logic. This explains 
and partly justifies the interpretations of the neo-Platonists and that of Zeller already 
considered; but does not necessitate any serious qualification of that here proposed.“ 


THE POLITICUS 


The Politicus quotes the Sophist,*” and is closely related to the Timaus and the 
Laws. Its style and its tone of ‘mixed ‘pathos and satire”*”’ in the reluctant aban- 
donment of impracticable ideals*’ mark it as probably late. But there is nothing in 
the thought to necessitate or strongly confirm this view.“* It cannot be shown that 
Zeller, Grote, or, more recently, Péhlman“™ are led into error in the interpretation of 
the thought by their assumption that it precedes the Republic, and the attempts of 


451 2. g., in 149 E-150 the denial of communion between 454 Supra, p. 34. 455 257 A, 266 D, 284 B, 286 B. 
the ideas: ovdé te €orat opixpov mAny avTHs oMLKpOTHTOS, 455 263 D, 266 BC. 457 272. C, 301, 302. 

452156 D, ada’ 9 éfachuns aitn pats aromds Ts eyxaOnrac 453For the theory of ideas and avauvnots, cf. supra, 
petati Tis KivijTews Kal aTagews, év xpovw ovderi ovoa, p. 44. 

453 See De Plat. idearwm doc., pp. 44-6. 459 Geschichte des antiken Kommunismus. 


186 


PauL SHOREY 61 





Lutoslawski and others to show that the doctrine must be late are either fallacious’” 


“" “Much of the dialogue is devoted 


or prove at the most that it is genuinely Platonic. 
to the illustration and perfection of the method of dichotomy set forth in the Sophist.” 
In form it is an attempt to define by this method the true statesman —to discriminate 
him sharply from other rulers and caretakers, and in particular from the politicians, 
sophists, rhetoricians, and generals, who usurp the name at Athens.” 

This logical process is illustrated and its tedium relieved by a myth 
elaborate analogies from the art of weaving which also separates, purifies, and 


46: 


‘and by 


re-combines.“” Remarks are made on the necessity of thus mingling jest with earnest, 
and of employing concrete imagery or patterns to illustrate abstract thought.“” The 
Our object is the elucidation of sound 
method and for that no briefer treatment of the theme would suffice.’ In general, 
Plato tells us, the clever men who proclaim that all things are subject to number and 
measure have neglected to observe that there are two distinct types or ideas of meas- 
urement :“” the purely relative mathematical measurement of one thing against 
another,” and the measurement in reference to fixed, absolute standards of the suit- 
able, the just mean or measure in every art and procedure. 
of censure applied to a philosophical discussion have no meaning except in the latter 
sense. That such absolute standards exist Plato cannot delay to prove except by a 
summary form of argument employed in the same way to cut short discussion in the 


charge of undue prolixity is anticipated.” 


Long and short as terms 


Pheedo and Timceus.*" 


another proposition which the opponent can hardly reject. 


The proposition to be proved is indissolubly bound up with 


In this case, as surely as 


the various arts and sciences exist, so surely is the pétpiov or absolute measure of fit- 


ness a reality. For all arts and sciences postulate it. 


460309 C, adnO7 Sofav . . . . Octay pyui ev Satpoviw yiyverbar 
yeve. does not mean that truth, etc., is ‘‘to be seen only 
in divine souls,” cf. supra, p. 39. In 272C, cvvayvpyov 
¢povyjoews does not mean “an ideal totality of individual 
endeavors .... transmitted from generation to genera- 
tion.” The word is used here not only for the first but for 
the last time. CAMPBELL’s citation of Sophist, 259D, is 
irrelevant; cf. supra, n. 489. The use of dvvauts proves 
nothing; cf. supra,p.49. 308 C has nothing to do with the 
modern notion of building up a science by selection, 
“while useless observations and notions are rejected ;”’ nor 
with Cratyl., 488E. The statement, 308 E, that the royal 
art puts to death, tovs wy dvvapevous Kowwverv, is not an 
admission of the “impossibility of proof in moral ques- 
tions,’’ and in any case is virtually identical with Protag., 
322 D, rov wn Suvapevoy aidods Kai dixyns metexerv xtecverv, ‘The 
unity of universal science” is not aflirmed in 258E, or 
Sophist, 257 C, except as the concept or idea (like any other 
concept) is one “already” in Rep., 488CD. The question 
is merely: Shall our dichotomies start from the concept 
“science” or from some other concept as, e. g., €umetpia? 
Cf. Soph., 219 A, with Gorg., 462 BC, 


461 The employment of a periphrasis in Pheedo, 99 B, for 
the technical term ovvairiov used in the Politicus, 281 D, 
287C, 281 C E, etc., and in the Timeus, 46C, and nowhere 
else, proves nothing. A periphrasis is used for the idea in 


This simple thought has often 


the “late” Philebus, 27 A, ro SovAciov cis yeveow aitia, The 
word in an allied sense occurs in Gorgias, 519 B. It is pos- 
sible that it did not occur to Plato’s mind in writing 
Pheedo, 99 B, but more probable that he deliberately pre- 
ferred the periphrasis which is far more impressive in the 
context: @AAo pev Ti €ote TO aitioy TH GVTL, GAAO S Exeivo avev ob 
TO alTLOV OUK ay 7roT’ Ein alTLoV. 


462 See CAMPBELL on 263 D. 


463 In 267 successive dichotomies have distinguished the 
statesman only as the caretaker of the biped human flock, 
{t remains to define his specific service to this flock, 287 B, 
291 B, 303 C ff. 


464 269 fF. 

465For the characteristic Platonie generalization of 
Staxpirexy cf. 282BC with Soph., 226D, and “already”’ 
Cratyl., 388 BC. Cf. Phileb., 28D. 


466.268 D, 277 ff. 
468285 D, 286. 
469 283-5, 


467 283 fF. 


The xouzwot are apparently the Pythagoreans. 
470 pos aAAnAa, 284B. The parallel with Rep., 531A, 
aAAnAots avaweTpovVTes, Seems to have been overlooked. 


471284,D, &s dpa nyntéov opoiws, etc. Phcedo, 77 A, eis 70 


Opolws elvar, ete. Tim., 51D. 


187 


62 Tue Unity or PLATo’s THOUGHT 





472 3 


been misunderstood. It is implied in the doctrine of ideas,’ in Plato’s polemic 
against mere relativity,‘ and even in the remark attributed to Prodicus in Phedrus, 
267B, adtos .. . . @v det Adywv Téyvnv: Seiv Sé ovTE paxpav ovTe Bpayéwv, add 
petpiov. The fact that it is explicitly stated “for the first time” in the Politicus 
proves no more than does the fact that it is never stated again. Plato happened to 
formulate it only once, but it is clearly involved in Republic, 531 A, adAnAous 
avapeTpovrtTes, etc. 

The myth may be profitably compared with the Timeus, Philebus, and Laws, 
but cannot be pressed to yield developments or contradictions of doctrine. Its service 
to the argument is merely to distinguish the mythical ideal of a shepherd of the people, 
who plays providence to his flock, from the modern ruler who leaves other specialists 
to feed, clothe, and house them, and confines himself to his specific task of govern- 
ment.*” In other words, it emphasizes the demand often repeated in Plato for a 
precise definition of the specific function and service of the royal or kingly art ; and, 
as Zeller says, rejects with a touch of irony ideals drawn from a supposed state of 
nature. This ruler is further discriminated, as in the Huthydemus and Gorgias, 
from the pretenders or subordinate ministers who usurp his name, the rhetorician, 
the general,” the dicast.“” Lastly, his special task is defined. As implied in the 
Meno and Euthydemus, and stated in the Republic, he is to teach virtue and incul- 
cate right opinion.“ And that his teaching may be effective and the seed fall in good 
ground, he is, like the rulers of the Republic and the Laws, to control marriages and 
the propagation of the race—especially with a view to harmonizing and blending the 
oppositions of the energetic and sedate temperaments.” 

The accompanying classification and criticism of forms of government imply no 
change of opinion unless we assume that Plato was bound to repeat himself verbatim. 
The classification of the Republic is first the ideal state governed by philosophic wis- 
“and then in progressive decadence timarchy, 
oligarchy, democracy, tyranny. The Politicus apparently recognizes seven states: 
one, the right state (802 C), the only Polity deserving the name (293 C), in which the 
Six others are obtained by distinguishing the good and bad 
forms of the three types recognized in ordinary Greek usage.’ We thus get monarchy 
or royalty, and tyranny, aristocracy, and oligarchy, and democracy, lawful and law- 


dom, whether Bacirela or apiotoKpatia, 


rulers are émioTHmoves. 


less.“* The differences are due mainly to the necessity of presenting a continuous 
472. g., by SYEBECK, Untersuchungen zur Phil. d. 479305 B. 
Griechen, pp. 92 ff., who over-emphasizes the analogies with 430309. D. 


e as O » Philebus. I rs . 
UNO EL RES OO AR a ees 481309, 310. The Republic recognizes the control of mar- 


473The petpiov yeveows, 284A B, to which every artist 
looks, is virtually the idea which he tries to realize, 
Gorg., 503 E. 

474 Cf, mpos aAAnAa four times in 283, 284 with Theetet., 
160 B, 182 B, Parmen., 164. 

475 274, 275. 

477 304 D, Buthydem., 289 D E. 

478 304 E, Huthydem., 290 B. 


476 Gorg., 517 B, 521 D. 
Cf. Gorg., 464-6, 502 BE. 


riage, 460, and the importance and difficulty of recon- 
ciling the two temperaments. 503C, It does not happen 
to bring the two ideas together. The Laws, 773A B, does. 
482445 D. It cannot be a democracy, because ¢iAdcohov 
. wARP0s advvarov elvac = Polit., 292 E, wav obv Soxet 
mAHOds ye év wOACL TaUTHY THY EmcoTyimny Suvaroy elvat KTHTaTOaL, 
483 Rep., 8388 D. Pindar., Pyth., LI, 87, 
484 Polit., 291, 301, 302 C ff, 


188 


PauL SHOREY 63 








descending scale in the Republic. This leaves no place for a good form of democracy 
or a good monarchy apart from the ideal kingdom.*” The fundamental distinction of 
the scientific state once noted, Plato plays freely with the conventional terminology, 
and no inferences can be drawn from his “contradictions.” There are countless forms 
of government if one cares to look beyond the conspicuous ¢éy."* In the Republic 
the good oligarchy, the aristocracy of the Politicus, isatimarchy. In the Menexenus 
the good democracy of Athens is an aristocracy governed by kings!"’ In the 
Laws,’ from the historical point of view, all governments are regarded as variations 
of the two mother types, the Persian absolutism and the Athenian democracy. But 
in respect of the ease with which reform may be effected the tyranny ranks first, the 
kingdom second, a certain type of democracy third, and oligarchy last.“ I have 
already discussed the significance of the opposition of the two temperaments for the 
definition of the virtues and the antinomies of the minor dialogues.” Grote strangely 
ignores this when he affirms that these difficulties are not touched in the Politicus. 


THE PHILEBUS 


The Philebus was selected by Dionysius of Halicarnassus as a type of Plato’s 
simpler Socratic style. The majority of recent critics more plausibly see signs of 
Plato’s later manner in the poverty of the dramatic setting, and the curious elabora- 
tion of phrasing and logical framework. The introduction presents again the objections 
to the theory of ideas advanced in the Parmenides, and, like the Parmenides, but 
more explicitly, hints that these puzzles are due to the limitations of human reason.“ 
It bids us disregard them and, assuming ideas, to deal with them and our subject 
according to the true dialectical method set forth in the Phadrus.“ It does not 
state that these metaphysical problems must be solved before we can so proceed. It 
merely says that we must come to such an understanding about them as will prevent 
* We have no reason to 
look for a solution of them in the subsequent course of the argument. None is given. 
There was, as we have seen, none to offer.“” The attempts of modern scholars to find 
one are very ingenious.“” But they are not supported by Plato’s words, and they 
proceed on the erroneous assumption that he thought it possible to give any other than 
a poetical and mythical account of the absolute, or to say more of the nowmenon than 


the puzzle of the one and many from confusing our inquiry.” 


485 The Politicus does not describe the development of 492 Supra, n. 70. 49315 C, 16 AB. 
one form from the other but merely states the order of 494 Cf. on this point my criticism of JACKSON, A. J. P., 
preference among the lawful and lawless forms of the Yo}, Ix, pp. 279, 280. Even ScHNEIDER (Plat. Metaphysik, 
three types. CAMPBELL, Jntr., p. xliv, overlooks all this 
when he treats as proofs of lateness the addition of 
BactActa as one of the lower forms, and the depression of 
oAcyapxia below Syuoxpatia, 


p. 53), whose interpretation of this part of the Philebus is 
excellent, does not make it clear that the metaphysical 
problem is merely evaded by the assumption of ideas and 
the method kar’ eiéy. 

486 Rep., 544 D. 487238 D. 488693 D. 495 Supra, p. 38. 

49710, The paradox, tupavvovnévny por Sore thy modu, 496 As types of all may be cited: SCHNEIDER, Platonische 
709, is literally incompatible with the associations of  yyetaphysik; StEBECK, Untersuchungen zur Philosophie der 
Tupavves in the Republic, but the notion of arevolution @yjechen, II; Plato's Lehre von der Materie; HENRY 
accomplished by arbitrary power is found in 501 A, 540 E. JACKSON, Plato’s Later Theory of Ideas. See A. J. P., 


490 Supra, pp. 11, 13, 15, n. 59. 491 Supra, pp. 36, 37. Vol. IX, p. 282. 
189 


64 Tue Unity or Puato’s THouGHT 





that it exists.“’ The elaborate apparatus of classifications and categories employed to 
decide whether pleasure or intelligence is more nearly akin to the good is due, apart 
from Plato’s interest in dialectical exercise, to his unwillingness to treat the problem 
of the good in isolation. His imagination and religious feeling require him to associate 
the ethical good of man with the principles of order, harmony, measure, beauty, and 
good in the universe. We thus get many interesting analogies with the Timeus, but 
no solution of the problem of ideas. The direct classification and estimate of the 
different species of pleasure and intelligence, which was all the ethical problem 
required,“ is subordinated to a larger classification of all things which, however, 
deepens and enriches our conception of the psychological and ontological relations of 
the elements of merely human good and happiness.” 

The terms of this classification are the 7répas, the a7repov, the pixtov or mixture of 
the two, and the aitéa or its cause. These terms represent, for the purposes of the 
argument, characteristic Platonic generalizations” of the ideas naturally associated 
with these words. Whatever else they may mean is at the most suggestion and 
analogy. Ilepas is a generalization of the idea of limit—whether it be the limitation 
of matter by form, of chaos by the principle of order and measure, of appetite by 
reason, or of the indeterminate genus by a definite number of species and sub-species. 
It is the idea of the Timceus, so far as that is conceived as a principle of limit and 
form stamped upon chaos. But it is not the Platonic idea—the hypostatization of the 
concept—for the purposes of metaphysical theory.™ 

The dzrecpov denotes among other things (1) the indefinite multiplicity of particu- 
lars as opposed to the unity of the idea—a conception found elsewhere in Plato.” 
Plato generalizes the term o@pa for “matter” in 29D. (2) Indeterminate matter as 
opposed to the form or limit that shapes it. In this sense it may be “equated” with 
the space, matter, or mother of all generation in the Timeus, 50 D.™ (8) Indeterminate 

502 Thecetet., 147 D, erecdy arecpor To TARPS. . . . FvAAGBetv 
eis €v implies the method of Phileb., 15,16. Cf. Rep., 525A; 
Polit., 262D; Soph., 256E; Parmen., 158C. SCHNEIDER, 
p. 4, n. 1, notes this meaning, but still insists that the 
ametpov of the Philebus primarily means indeterminate 
matter, which he rightly shows is not = xy ov, p. 5 (cf. 
supra, n. 261), but wrongly denies to be virtually identical 
with space. See SIEBECK, p. 84. The Timceus does not 
explicitly identify ‘‘ matter” and “‘space’’ merely because 
it does not distinctly separate the two ideas. See A. J. P., 


Vol. IX, p. 416. But whether we call it matter or space, the 
xpa, the mavSexes, the mother of generation is one, 


497 Cf, EMERSON, Representative Men, “Plato,” “No 
power of genius has ever yet had the smallest success in 
explaining existence. The perfect enigma remains. But 
there is an injustice in assuming this ambition for Plato.” 

498The net result of the introduction is (19B) eiéy 
yap mot Soxec viv épwrav ndovns nuas Swxparys, etc. 

499 23 C ff. 

500 So Plato generalizes “axn, Puthyd., 271, 272: «yjdnos 
(é€rwba@v téxvn), ibid., 289E; Onpevtixy, ibid., 290B; Laws, 
823B; Polit., 299D; Rep., 313B; Soph, 221, 222; mAcovegia, 
Laws, 906C, cf. Symp., 186C, Gorg., 508A; «BédnAeca, 
Laws, 916D; motnots, Symp., 205B; €pws, ibid., 205 D, and 


passim; yéveows, Polit., 261 B, etc.; Svaxputixn, Soph., 226C; 
miBavoupytxy, ibid., 222C; xoAaxeca, Gorg., 463 B ff.; the 
comparative degree, To “aAAov Te Kai Hrtov, Phileb., 24; and 
many minor examples, Polit., 279, 280, 289. 

501 SCHNEIDER, p. 133, and SreBeck, p. 738, make it a 
mediating principle between the idea and phenomena. 
But Plato never speaks of the ‘‘ idea,” but only of the ideas 
or the idea of something. Wleépas is itself an idea and is the 
cause of limit, in any given case, precisely as the idea of 
whiteness is the cause of white, or the idea of dog the 
cause of a dog. 


503 SIEBECK compares it as the antithesis of the idea to 
the “7 ov, the érepov of the Sophist, the matter or space of 
the Timceus, the principle of necessity or evil, and the 
pweya Kai pixpov. More precisely (p. 89), the dmecpov is the 
mediating link between the @arepov of the Sophist and the 
xHpa of the Timaus. Now these terms undoubtedly have 
this in common, that they are variously opposed to the 
ideas, but Plato employs them in different connections and 
we cannot equate them. SreBECK argues (pp. 58{f.) that 
the absolute «7 6v abandoned in the Sophist (258 E) must 
mean something. He finds it in the absolute hypothesis of 


190 


PAUL SHOREY 65 





physical and chemical “process,” as opposed to ideally or mathematically defined 
“states.,”°"* (4) The insatiate, limitless character of undisciplined desire and appetite— 
a conception which we have met in the Gorgias.”” 

The puxtov is the mixture or union of 7épas and azeipov in any or all of these 
senses giving rise to various yevéoes, both in the world of matter and in souls.” As 
the union of matter and form it may be “equated” with the “offspring” of the idea 
and the “mother” in the Timaus."" As the mixed life of pleasure and intelligence it 
obviously may not.”” 

Aria is the principle of cause in general, and in particular the cause of the due 
mixture of pleasure and intelligence in the happy life."” In the one sense it may be 
identified with the Demiurgus who embodies the principle of cause in the Timaus.”” 
The ultimate cause is conceived by Plato as beneficial intelligence which is virtually 
synonymous with the good. He intentionally confounds the good in human life with 
the good in the universe. It is possible, then, to say that God, or the good, or 
beneficent intelligence is the cause alike of the cosmos or ordered world and of the 
well ordered life." We may identify the supreme mind (vovs) with the Demiurgus of 
the Timeus and the Idea of Good in the Republic. We may conceive the ideas as 
thoughts of God, identify God with the sum of his thoughts (vénovs vorjcews) and so 
bring the ideas under the principle of aitéa as not only formal but efficient causes.”” 
But in all this we are mechanically “equating” the terminology and imagery—the 
literary machinery, so to speak, of three distinct lines of thought in three different 
dialogues, for the sake of attributing to Plato a rigid and ingenious metaphysical 


system wholly foreign to his spirit. 


We have already discussed the psychology and the main ethical argument of the 


the Parmenides as the antithesis of the é€v regarded as the 
symbol of the principle of the ideas. From this it is an 
easy step to identifying it with matter which is also the 
antithesis of the idea. But it is not true that the absolute 
“7 Ov must mean something. Plato’s rejection of it in the 
Sophist is sincere, and is confirmed by the Parmenides 
which makes it unspeakable and unthinkable. The abso- 
lute 6v, as we have seen, was reinstated for religious and 
metaphysical purposes, as it is by many philosophers of 
every age. There was no such motive for forcing a mean- 
ing upon the absolute “} ov, and the identification of it 
with matter is, as we have seen, quite impossible. (Supra, 
n. 261.) 

S1eBEcK then proceeds to associate the logical dmeipov 
and the datepov with space and to attribute to Plato an 
“intelligible ’’ as well as a phenomenal space by pressing 
all passages in which the logical relations of concepts are 
expressed in spatial terms (p. 90). As the human mind 
naturally thinks logical determinations in spatial im- 
agery, he has no difficulty in finding such passages. But 
plainly the method is vicious. We cannot infer an intel- 
ligible ‘‘space”’ or the identity of @atepov and space 
because the ideas are spoken of as “living apart,” or 
“included” in a larger idea, or because the method of 
dichotomy proceeds to the right and leaves on the left the 
other of the particular idea pursued. Still less can we 
infer it from the vontos roros, or from the fact that move- 


ment and measure are spoken of in connection with the 
ideas, and movement and measure imply space! 

504 Phileb., 24B, 25C, 26A. 

505 27 E, 31 A, Gorg., 492-4, supra, p. 24. 

506 27 D, 25 E, 26 B, cat ev uxats ad may7oAAa, which alone 
refutes the equation, arecpov = matter. 

50750 D. 

508There is a slight equivocation in the assumption 
(27D) that the “mixed” life of pleasure and intelligence 
belongs to the pcxtov of mépas and azecpov, 

509 26 E, 23D, 64C. 

510Tn 30D the BactAcxny Wuxyv, etc., =the soul of the 
world, and the aitias évvauww = the Demiurgus. 

511 Cf, Idea of Good, pp. 188, 189, n. 2. 

512 SCHNEIDER identifies God not with the Idea of Good, 
but with the ideas. The ideas, he argues, must be real and 
they must be thoughts. They are, therefore, thoughts of 
God. We have already considered this theory, supra, p. 38. 
It is for the modern systematic philosopher the most 
plausible escape from the difficulty of positing two dis- 
tinct nowmena, God and the Ideas. Perhaps Plato would 
have accepted it, if it had been presented to him. Unlike 
the majority of its advocates, SCHNEIDER does not misin- 
terpret particular passages in order to support it. He 
merely combines and equates lines of thought which Plato 
left unfinished and distinct. 


191 


66 THE Unity oF Puato’s THOUGHT 





Philebus, and seen that neither contradicts or appreciably modifies the doctrine of the 
earlier dialogues.”* There remains only the question whether the demonstration of 
the unreality of pleasure presupposes, or, as Zeller still maintains, is presupposed by, 
the shorter proof of the Republic. Believing that the Philebus is probably late, I am 
logically committed to the first branch of the alternative. But this opinion is entirely 
compatible with the view that the differences between the two treatments of the theme 
are not in themselves sufficient to show which must be the earlier. It is impossible 
to determine a priori whether the slighter treatment is an anticipation or a résumé of 
the fuller discussion. The main doctrine was always a part of Plato’s thought, as 
appears from the Gorgias, the Phedo, and the Phadrus.“ The differences between 
the Republic and the Philebus have been much exaggerated. The abbreviation of 
the argument in the Republic is sufficiently explained by the subordinate place which 
it occupies in the scheme of the entire work. It affords no proof of the date, and no 
presumption even of a change of doctrine.” 


THE THEATETUS 


The date of the Theewtetus has been much debated on external grounds.” Its 
wealth of thought and dramatic vivacity of style make it one of the most difficult 
dialogues to classify. In psychological depth and dialectical acuteness it ranks with 
the Sophist, Philebus, and Parmenides, many of the thoughts of which it anticipates 
or suggests.” Socrates is 
still the midwife delivering ingenuous youth of opinions which fail to stand the test 
of the elenchus. And the conclusion is an avowal of Socratic ignorance.” 

Before losing ourselves in details we must recall why this is so. There are two 
reasons: (1) The formal quest for an absolute definition always fails in Plato.’ (2) 
It is not possible to define knowledge or explain error. We can only describe and 
classify different stages of cognition and various forms of error. All seemingly intel- 
ligible explanation rests on material images, like Plato’s figure of the wax tablets and 
the aviary. But these analogies either commit us to sheer materialism and the flowing 
philosophy, or they explain nothing. No spatial image can represent the synthetic 


But it has nothing of their dogmatic finality of manner. 


513 Supra, pp. 24, 43, 45 ff. 
514 Supra, p. 24. 


that the Republic is not yet acquainted with the thought 
that the neutral state implies not absolute quiet in the 


515 See ZELLER, p. 548. The question whether pleasure 
or dpovnats is the good (Rep., 505 B) need not be a specific 
reference to the Philebus. It is virtually raised in the 
Protagoras and Gorgias. Zeller’s table of agreements be- 
tween the Rep. and Phileb. merely proves the unity of 
Plato’s thought. Rep., 584 D-585 A- EB, 586 A-C, which he 
cites, present, at the most, different imagery. The thoughts 
are inthe Philebus. That the Philebus does not refer spe- 
cifically to the Idea of Good is no stranger than is the fact 
that no other dialogue does. On the other hand LuTos- 
LAWSKI’S objection (p. 470) that the difficulty, Rep., 505 B, 
that the sought-for dpovyccs is bpovnors rod aya0od is disposed 
of by our observation that the reference, if reference there 
must be, is to the Charmides, supra, n.61. JACKSON argues 


body, but slight motions which do not cross the threshold 
of consciousness. But the thought isimplied in Rep. Cf. 
supra, n. 328. 

516 See ZELLER, p. 406, n. 1; CAMPBELL’sS Introduction; 
LuTosLAwskI, p. 385. It is on the whole more probable 
that the battle in which Thesetetus was wounded belongs 
to the Corinthian war, 394-387, than to the year 368. 


517 Of. supra, pp. 33, 34, 55, nn. 179, 182, 389. 
518149 ff., 161 AB, 209 BE, 210C. 


519 Cf, supra, p. 18, p. 16, n. 86. JownrT says, Vol. V, 
p. 119: “We cannot suppose that Plato thought a defini- 
tion of knowledge to be impossible.” But it is impossible, 
and that for the very reasons suggested by Plato. 


192 


PauL SHOREY 67 





unity of consciousness and memory. None can explain the comparison of past and 
present impressions in an unextended focal point of consciousness. 
sent except in the vaguest poetic figure’ a psychical mechanism that now operates 
correctly, yielding right opinion, and now incorrectly, resulting in error.” On the 
other hand, if we invoke the absolute unity of mind behind our imagined mechanism, 
we are merely moving in a circle. 


None can repre- 


We reaffirm our faith in the immaterial soul, but 
we can offer no intelligible explanation of degrees in cognition or of the psychological 
process of error.” 

The quest for a definition, then, fails, as Plato expected it todo, But the analysis 
is carried far enough (1) to refute to Plato’s satisfaction all psychologies of pure mate- 
rialism or relativism;™ (2) to justify a purely logical and practical treatment of the 
pn Ov, wevdys do€a, and similar fallacies in the Sophist.“* This and the immense 
wealth of psychological suggestion scattered by the way are the chief positive results 
of the dialogue.” 

It has been repeatedly analyzed in detail.’ As in the Gorgias and Philebus,™ 
much of the argument is purely dramatic, directed only against the cruder forms of 
the theory combated.’ The ingenious attempts to reconstruct the doctrines of con- 
temporary thinkers from Plato’s polemic are more apt to confuse our understanding of 
Plato than to add to our knowledge of Protagoras, Aristippus, or Antisthenes.™” As 
Professor Campbell says: ‘‘ Whoever the contemporaries were to whom Plato refers as 
the disciples of Protagoras, he aims beyond them at the whole relative side of Greek 
thought of which Heraclitus was the most prominent exponent.” 

The identification of the avOpw7ros pétpov, the mavra pet, and the definition that 
knowledge is sensible perception, is a part of Plato’s literary machinery which we 
The avOpwros pérpov is not a 
scientific or philosophic principle, but a rhetorical paradox or truism embodying a 


must accept untroubled by nice historic scruples, 


520 Cf, Tim., 87 AB, with Thecetet., 194 B. 

521 ZELLER, p. 590, thinks that the section on Wevdis Soka 
is an indirect refutation of the definition that knowledge 
is aAnOns Sofa, He says that the difficulty of explaining 
false opinion arises only from the assumption that knowl- 
edge is ‘‘right opinion.” That is not so, either absolutely 
or in Plato. The ultimate difficulty is: if the mind appre- 
hends as a psychic unit, how is mis-apprehension, as dis- 
tinguished from non-apprehension, possible? BOon1rz is 
undoubtedly right in affirming that the question for Plato 
is not so much the fact or possibility of error as the psycho- 
logical explanation. (Pp. 83, 89. Cf. my paper, De Pla- 
tonis idearum doctrina, pp. 17-19.) The length of the 
“digression” is justified by the interest attached to the 
problem of Wevdns Sofa and the psychological analysis that 
it provokes. It is a “digression” and a negative result 
only for those who naively assume that Plato himself ex- 
pected to reach a positive definition. 

522184 CD, 200AB. 

523 Supra, p. 34, n. 283. Cf. Theeetet., 184C ff. Up to 183C 
the identity of émia7tyuy and aig@yors is refuted only so far 
as it depends on extreme Protagorean relativity or Hera- 
cliteanism, which makes all thought and speech impossible. 
KaTa ye THY TOU TavTa Kivercbar wEedodor, 


“ 


524 Of. supra, p. 5d. 

525 On its relation to the theory of ideas cf. supra, p, 33. 
526 By Bonrrz, NATORP, CAMPBELL, JOWETT, GROTE, etc. 
527 Supra, n, 137. 


528 Supra, n. 7. Note especially the tone of 163-6, 
where avowedly eristic arguments are employed against 
the literal identification of értoryun and aicPyovs. Observe 
the persiflage of 156, 157, 167 A, 179, 180. NarorP, Philol., Vol. 
L, p. 263, thinks 161 B-165 E a parody of Antisthenes’s attack 
on Protagoras, 166-8 C being Protagoras’s defense. Any allu- 
sion to eristic may be in a sense a parody of Antisthenes 
or of any other eristic contemporary. Protagoras himself is 
represented as employing the “y 6v quibble, 167A. Cf. 
supra, n. 405, and Euthydem., 286 C, 


529See NATORP’s acute Forschungen zur Geschichte des 
Erkenntnissproblems im <Alterthum, and his “Protagoras 
und sein Doppelganger,’ Philologus, Vol. L, pp. 262 ff. 
NATORP’s analyses retain their value, even if we doubt 
the possibility of reconstructing Protagoras. For Antis- 
thenes and the Theetetus see the phantastic conjectures of 
JOEL, Der echte und der xenophontische Sokrates, Vol. I, 
pp. 839 ff, 


193 


68 THE Unity oF PLato’s THOUGHT 





practical tendency of the age repugnant to Plato’s taste and feeling. This seems to 
be overlooked in the controversy between Natorp (Philologus, 50) and Gomperz, as to 
the meaning of the formula. Plato, as Natorp shows, explicitly affirms the thought to 
be: things are to (each and every) man as they appear to him. If sugar tastes bitter 
to the sick man, it is bitter to him—there is no other test. But there is no evidence 
and no probability that Protagoras had systematically drawn out the consequences of 
generalizing this proposition in its application to ethical and logical truths. He did 
not need to ask himself whether he meant by av@pwos this, that and the other 
man, or human cognitive faculties in general. He took dv7a, as he found it in Greek 
idiom, without distinguishing things, qualities, and truths—though his simplest 
examples would naturally be qualities. By s he presumably meant ‘‘that,’ but 
“that”? and “how” are closely associated in Greek idiom and are often confounded in 
popular not to say in Platonic usage. If he used fatverar and ¢avtacia he probably did 
not distinguish the “it seems to me” of actual sensation from the ‘‘it seems to me”’ of 
any opinion,” and Plato avails himself of the ambiguity for the half serious wepitpow 
that since Protagoras’s “truth” does not seem true to the majority, it is admitted by 
Protagoras himself to be oftener false than true.” 

Ilavra pet Plato himself accepts for the phenomenal world.’ As a metaphysical 
dogma it is tantamount to materialism in that all materialists are more or less con- 
sciously Heracliteans, though all Heracliteans need not be materialists.“* As a neo- 
Heraclitean paradox it is the negation of the ideas, of the universal, of rational logic 
and speech.” As a rhetorical formula it is the symbol of the restless spirit of innova- 
tion which Plato detested.” Before generalizing and restating for serious refutation 
what he conceives to be the common psychological presuppositions of these catchwords, 
Plato covers them with persiflage and assails them with arguments which he admits to 
be rhetorical and eristic. There is no probability that the representatives of these 
doctrines could have explained their meaning or defended themselves as well as Plato 
has done it for them. So far as we know, he is the first thinker who was capable of 
distinguishing, dividing, classifying, and generalizing ideas, of noting the affinities 
and differences of philosophic doctrines, and of translating them freely into different 
terminologies. All other early thinkers, like the majority of thinkers always, are the 
prisoners of their formulas and can only abound in their own sense. Plato, as 
Emerson says, ‘‘needs no barbaric war paint, for he can define and divide,” and he 
delights to prick with the keen point of his dialectic the bubbles of imagery, rhetoric, 
and antithesis blown by his predecessors. Heraclitus means well when he says that 
the one is united by disunion,” or that the hands at once draw and repel the bow.” 
But the epigram vanishes under logical analysis. The pre-Socratics discourse, in a 

830 Of, supra, p. 48. 584 Cratyl., 439, 440; Thecctet., 179, 180; Soph., 249 D. 


531170, 171. Cf, Buthyd., 286 C, nai rovs re dAAovs avatperwv 535 PATER, Plato and Platonism, pp. 16-20. 
Kai avros aver. 


532 Cratyl., 489D; Symp., 207 D; Timceus, passim. 
533 Theertet., 155 E, 156 A. 


536 Symp., 187 A. 
537 Rep., 439 B. The saying is Heraclitean in tone, 


194 


PAuL SHOREY 69 








fine imaged style, about Being, but a plain man can not be sure of their meaning.” 


Absolute formulas, like wdvra pei, wav &, mavtwv pétpov avOpwrros, have an imposing 
sound, but if we press for their interpretation, prove to be either truisms or paradoxes, 
destructive of intelligible speech.” 

It is an ingenious sport to construct for Protagoras some subtle and nicely 
guarded modern system of phenomenalism. But we must then pass over the purely 
dramatic parts of Plato’s discussion, and limit ourselves to his final and seriously meant 
arguments against the psychology of materialism and the logic of relativism. There 
are two such arguments which neither Plato nor his critics are careful to distinguish 
sharply: (1) The first is that the senses are organs of mind and that sense perception 
itself implies the “soul” or some central “synthetic unity.”“’ This, if fully under- 
stood, is conclusive against the sensationist materialism of Condillac’s statue. But 
(2) The objects 
of each sense we can perceive only through the specific organ of that sense." But 
the general common categories of Being, not-Being, number, likeness, difference, the 
same, and the other,” as also ethical universals, and the abstract definitions of sensuous 
qualities’ are apprehended without subsidiary organs solely through the action of the 
Availing himself of the 
double meaning of oveda (1) logical essence, (2) reality, truth, Plato argues, as in the 
Pheedo,”™ that truth and reality are attained only by the “pure” thought of the soul 
acting independently of the body. 

A modern Theeetetus, of course, might deny that abstract thought has no bodily 
But the 
absolute identification of aio@nows and émiortypy is sufficiently refuted, and the suggest- 
iveness of this definition having been exhausted, a fresh start is made with the 
definition “knowledge is true opinion.’ But this implies that we understand erroneous 
opinion, and error proves to be inexplicable. The attempt to explain it calls forth 
many interesting analogies and distinctions.” One large class of errors is accounted 
for as arising from the wrong reference of present sensations to stored up memory 
images.” The distinction between latent or potential and actual knowledge postpones 
the final difficulty.” But in the end it must be faced: error as a matter of fact occurs 
in ‘“‘pure” thought. How can pure thought misapprehend its object? A bodiless 
intelligence either touches or does not touch the object of thought. We can understand 


Plato’s chief interest is in the second argument derived from this. 


mind, and its reflections on the contradictions of sense. 


organ, or that its objects are more ‘‘real” than the perceptions of sense. 


nerves, but Empedocles “ already” remarked of the senses, 
ov Svvag@at Ta aAAjAwy Kpiverv, Theophr. sens., 7, Dox. 500. 


542185 C D. 543186 AB. Cf. supra, nn. 221 and 222, 
544 Theaetet., 187 A; Phaedo, 65C. 


538 Soph., 242, 243. 

539 Cratyl., 439, 440; Theetet., 183A B, 179DE; Soph., 
249C D. 

540184 D, dSecvov yap mov, & mai, €t moAAat Ties Ev NuY, WoTEp 
év Soupetois immots, aigOycers eyxaOnvTat, aAAa mH Eis lav TWA 


iSéav, cite puxny cite O Te Set Kadelv, TavTa TavTA fuvrecvec, etc. 

541185A C, LurosLawskI, pp. 276, 372, fancies that this 
is an anticipation of the modern ‘‘ law of specific energies 
of the senses,’’‘‘already’”’ glanced at in Rep., 352 E, but 
showing progress in the formulation here. The modern 
law could not be anticipated without knowledge of the 


545 Cf. supra, p. 55; n. 520 with text. 

546 193,194. The memory image is treated as knowledge, 
eidevat, 

547197, This isthe distinction invoked in Euthyd., 277, 
278, to meet the eristic fallacy of the alternative eidevac 7 
mn eidevar, 


195 


70 THe Unity oF Puato’s THOUGHT 








the confusion of one object with another, the misplacement of cognitions, only in 
terms of spatial imagery which, if accepted literally, is materialism again, and if taken 
as a symbol implies the synthetic unity of mind behind it, and so renews the puzzle in 
infinite regress.“* Modern metaphysicians evade the difficulty by assuming an infinite 
thought of which our erring thought is a part. Their task then is to preserve the 
individuality of a consciousness that is part of another mind. This problem disappears 
in a mist of theistic language enveloping pantheistic doctrine. Plafo does not soar to 
these heights, but having carried the psychological analysis to the limit, he disposes 
of the equation, é71o7T7un = AOyos aAnOys, by pointing out asharp practical distinction 
between knowledge and right opinion. 
and hearsay about things which we can know only if we have seen them. 

The third and final suggestion is that knowledge is right opinion coupled with 
'  Tran- 
In human life it is the 


True opinions may be imparted by persuasion 
549 


550 


doyos. This is for practical purposes substantially Plato’s own view.” 
scendentally knowledge is the apprehension of the idea. 
dialectician’s reasoned mastery of his opinions implying stability, consistency, and the 
Plato reserves the terms knowledge, 


intelligence, pure reason, for the man who co-ordinates his opinions, unifies them by 


power to render exact account of beliefs. 


systematic reference to higher principles, ideals, and ‘ideas,’ and who can defend 
This is not a definition, but it is quite as 
good a description as the most modern of his critics can produce. This view is set 
forth in the Republic in the context necessary to make it intelligible. It would not 
have suited Plato’s design to repeat or anticipate that description in the Thecetetus 
which is cast in the form of a dialogue of search. 
general definition of knowledge and another thing to describe the state of mind to 
which the term science or knowledge cat’ €€oxnv is applicable. Sensible perception 
is not a synonym or definition of knowledge, nor, according to Plato, knowledge in the 
highest sense. But it is the most certain and the only knowledge we possess of some 
kinds of objects. And the recognition of this fact in various passages of the Thectetus 
would in itself make a satisfactory all-inclusive definition of knowledge impossible. 


552 


them in fair argument against all comers. 


Moreover, it is one thing to give a 


Accordingly Plato brings the dialogue to a plausible conclusion by discussing 
(and rejecting) various possible meanings of Adyos, none of which yields a good defini- 


5182004 B. The original aropia arose from the unme-  éxetv Adyov Sodvar is opposed to émoryuy. In ethics fixed, 


diated antithesis etéévat 7 my eidevat — a conscious fallacy, 
as the language of 188 A and Euthyd., 277,278, shows. Psy- 
chology is enriched, and the practical fallacy is disposed 
of, by the distinction of grades and kinds of cognition, but in 
the end our analysis brings us to an indivisible act of 
psychic apprehension which either is or is not. 

549201 B; Grote triumphs in the admission that sense- 
perception is, after all, sometimes knowledge; cf. supra, 
n. 324. 

550201 C D. 

551 The Timeus (51D) sharply distinguishes vovs and 
adnOns Sofa, but adds 70 pév aei pet’ adnPois Adyou, 7d 5€ aAoyor. 
In the Meno, 98 A, right opinions became knowledge when 
bound aitias Aoytoug. In Symp., 202 A, op0a Soéagew —avev rov 


stable, true opinion is virtually a synonym of ¢povnats: 
Laws, 653 A, dpovnow &€ cai adndeis Sofas BeBaiovs. Strictly 
speaking, there are three grades: (1) casual right opinion; 
(2) right opinion fixed by judicious education from youth; 
(3) right opinion fixed and confirmed by the higher educa- 
tion and accompanied by the ability dodvac Aoyor. But Plato 
is not careful to distinguish the last two. They are both 
povinoe (Meno, 984; Rep., 430 B, reading morvcmov), In Polit., 
309 C, adnO%) Sdéav peta BeBarwoews cannot be referred exclu- 
sively to the philosophic virtue with ZELLER (p. 596). It 
includes the virtues of fixed habit guided from above, as 
appears, é.g., from the reservation ws ye €v moAcreca, 309 E, 
which is precisely equivalent to roActixyy ye in Rep., 480 E. 


552 Supra, p.17; n. 91 with text. 553 Supra, n. O49, 


196 


PauL SHOREY 71 





tion.“ Socrates has heard a theory that the first elements of things are simple and 
not objects of knowledge. For knowledge implies giving and taking an account, and 
no account can be given of elements beyond naming them. They will not admit any 
other predicate.” In this paragraph we may discover allusions to Antisthenes’s paradox 
about predication and definition, to current philosophies of materialism, and to 
mechanical interpretations of Plato’s own formula dotvar te kal dé€acOar Adyov. But 
whatever Plato’s secondary literary intentions, his main purpose is to present a 
serious psychological and metaphysical problem. Is the whole the sum of its parts 
except in mathematics? Can the world be explained as a mechanical summation of 
elements? The problem presents itself to us in psychology and cosmogony.”” Plato 
treats it in dialectical abstraction, taking the syllable and its letters (‘‘elements,” 
oroxeia) as representatives of elements and compounds. He decides (1) that the 
syllable is not the mere equivalent of its elements, but a new emergent form and dis- 
tinct idea; (2) that, whether this be so or not, the elements and the syllable are equally 
knowable and unknowable. For if the syllable is the sum of the elements it cannot 
be known if they are not. And if it is a new unity it is as elemental as they and can- 
not be explained by resolution into its parts. 

The second conclusion disposes of the proposed definition. The first, as we have 
already seen, is a suggestion of the doctrine of ideas as against philosophies of 
mechanical materialism.’ But we are not therefore justified in making this episode 
the chief purpose of the dialogue. Two other possible meanings of Adyos are shown to 
yield no result, and the dialogue closes with the Socratic moral that we are at least 
wiser for knowing that we do not know. 


THE PHAIDRUS 


The Pheedrus, with its profusion of ideas, its rich technical and poetical vocabu- 
lary, and its singular coincidences with the Laws” and Timeus,”” makes the impres- 
sion of a mature work. This impression is confirmed by Sprach-Statistik, and by the 
fact that it directly parodies a sentence of Isocrates’s Panegyricus published in 380.*” 
It is possible to say that the thoughts are merely sketched in a “program” of future 
work; that the dithyrambic vocabulary is due to the theme; and that the phrase of 
Isocrates is taken from an older, common source.”' Anything may be said in debate. 


554 LUTOSLAWSEI (p. 371) argues that the Theetetus re- 555 202, 

jecting Aoyos, etc., contradicts the opinion “provisionally” 596 E.g., WuNDT’s psychology differs from that of the 
received in Meno, 98 A, Symp., 202A, and Pheedo, 96 B. He pure associationists chiefly in that he insists that the whole 
fails to note (1) that this “provisional” view recurs in the is not the sum of its parts— aaa’ é£ éxeivwy év Te yeyovos «ldos 
Timeus, (2) that Pheedo, 96 B, is an ironical summary of — jgéay piav adrd avtoo éxov, Thecetetus, 203 E. 
materialism and is irrelevant here, (3) that the omission of 587 Supra, nn. 227, 228 with text. 
aitia which surprises him (p. 378) is presumably intentional R 5 Hoes A 

Sore ses Gare c 558 245 D, apxn xuvnoews, ete. 
and minimizes the contradiction. Plato does not intend to en) Seana ore 
“define” knowledge, but he is careful not to contradict the °° In the style e the aa Sr as ; 
practical description of it given in the Republic. The a 267 A, 70. Te a) ouikpa peydAa Kal Ta ey aN Cutkpa... c 
phrase Sodvat te kai Sé£acGar Adyov is mentioned as aconditio "av Te apxatws, etc. Isoc. Pan., 8, kai ta Te weyada Ga 
sine qua non of knowledge (202C), but only in connection TORN AE RAS TOS! UELRPOLS MeyeBos mepiBetvar, Kai Ta Te TaAaca 
with the rejected theory of elements, and its full dialecti-  <%'¥@5 SteAPetv, ete. 
cal significance is not developed. 561 GOMPERZ, Ueber neuere Plato-Forschung. 


72 THe Unity oF PLato’s THouUGHT 





But there is an end to all use of Isocratean parallels if we cannot infer that the Phadrus 
is later than a work which it explicitly parodies. 

If we assume Lysias, who died in 378, to be still living, the date may be still 
more precisely determined to about the year 379. The strongest confirmation of this 
date is the weakness of the arguments for an earlier date, which it is hard to take 
seriously. The politician who recently called Lysias a Aoyoypados need not have been 
Archinos, and, if he was, Plato’s use of évayyos may be merely dramatic.’ The 
patronizing commendation of Socrates at the end“ is not incompatible with a sly 
parody of his Gorgian style, nor even with the sharp rap on the knuckles administered 
to him (if it is Isocrates) at the close of the Huthydemus. Still less can we say that 
Plato and Isocrates could never have been friends after the declaration at the close of 
the tract against the Sophists that virtue cannot be taught, or, for that matter, after 
any other polemical innuendo in their works. Huxley, Matthew Arnold, Frederick 
Harrison, Herbert Spencer, and other knights of nineteenth-century polemics, com- 
bined much sharper thrusts than these with the interchange of courteous or slightly 
ironical compliments. 

Our chief concern, however, is with arguments drawn from the thought. We 
have already seen that the dialectical method of the Phedrus is not appreciably less 
mature than that of the Philebus or the Sophist,™ and that, on the other hand, there 
is nothing in the psychology or ethics of the Phadrus that necessarily fixes its rela- 
tion to the Republic, the Phado, or the Symposium.”” What can be said, then, of 
the attempts of distinguished scholars to show that the thought of the Phadrus dates it 
circa 392, or even ten years earlier? The only one that calls for serious consideration 
is Natorp’s argument” that the immaturity of the Phedrus is proved by the absence 
of the notion of a supreme science, or of ultimate categories found in the Symposium, 
Republic, Sophist, and even in the Huthydemus. The answer is that such a notion 
neyer appears in Plato except in some special form adapted to a particular argument. 
Natorp includes very different things under this rubric. The supreme science of the 
Symposium is merely the knowledge of the idea—of the idea of beauty as distin- 
euished from particular beauties. That of the Republic is knowledge of the idea— 
of the idea of good as the oxozes or aim of true statesmanship. That of the Huthyde- 
mus is in one place by implication dialectic (290C), in another the “political art” 
(291C). In other passages the unity of science is merely the unity of the concept or 
“' The ontological categories of the Thecetetus, Sophist, and Parmeni- 
des belong to a different line of thought and have a mainly logical significance. They 





idea, émuoTn pn. 


are connected with the notion of a universal science only in so far as they are appre- 
hended and discriminated by dialectic. Now the subject of the Phadrus did not call 
for the explicit assumption either of supreme categories or a universal science. The 
chief point in the myth, ignored by Natorp and the majority of commentators, is that 


562257C. 564 Supra, n. 377. 565 Supra, pp. 19, 43; n. 152. 
503279 A, rods Adyous ols vow émcyetpec may well be the 506 Hermes, Vol. XXXV, pp. 405 ff. 
Panegyricus, but might be anything. 567 Supra, n. 460, 


198 


PauL SHOREY 73 





the ecstasy of love is due to a speciality of the idea of beauty. Unlike other ideas, it 
is represented in this world by a not wholly inadequate copy, the sight of which recalls 
the beatific vision of the original.” The proof of immortality requires only the 
categories of the self-moved and that moved by another.*” The absence of other 
abstract logical categories proves no more here than it does in the Laws. The method 
of dialectic is described in its relation to rhetoric, which is regarded as an art of 


deceptive dialectic or almost eristic.”” 


There is no occasion for going back to ultimate 
categories or hypothesis beyond hypothesis. The subject about which it is desired to 
effect persuasion is the starting-point.” The rhetorician’s art is to bring this under 
a definition or category from which there is a plausible transition to praise or blame.” 
So even in the Philebus the account of the true dialectical method starts from the 
concrete adzreipov to be investigated, or the idea, the €y, that it reveals to inspection, and 
says nothing there of ontological categories, ultimate hypothesis, or a supreme science.” 
The Philebus is not for that reason less mature than the Phado.” Plato cannot 
always delay to tabulate ultimate categories or to reaffirm the unity of science, whether 
it be (1) as dialectic, (2) as the vision of the idea, or (3) as the “ political art.” 
Natorp’s other arguments merely confirm our main position by illustrating once 
more, and typically, the desperate straits to which an acute scholar is reduced in the 
attempt to date the dialogues by their thought. For example, there is obviously no 
connection between the remark that those who affirm that Ppovynow is the chief good 
are unable to define what dpévnows (Rep., 505 B), and the enthusiastic declaration that 
if wisdom (fpovnois) could be seen by mortal eyes (as beauty in some measure can) it 
would enkindle dewots .. . . épwtas (Pheedr., 250D). Yet Natorp regards the first 
passage as a distinct criticism of and advance upon the latter. But the Phadrus pas- 
sage merely says that dpdvnow, if we could only see it, would be still more lovable 
than beauty. It does not affirm it to be the chief of goods, and, if it did, need not 
for that reason precede the Republic, unless we are to say the same of Laws, 6310.” 
Again, in 245 the unctuous phrase devois pév driotos, copots d€ mi0T7 is said to 
mark Plato’s early, unscientific mood, because mature Platonism ranks knowledge 
But plainly a religious thinker may affirm the superiority of knowledge 
to belief and yet indulge himself in the ironieal declaration that the “clever” will 
disbelieve, but the wise believe, his proof of immortality. Similarly in 247C the 
statement that no poet has ever worthily sung the region above the heavens is taken 
to prove that the passage is Plato’s first exposition of the theory of ideas. But such 


above ictus. 


568 250 BC D. 


570261 D with Sophist, 259D. Rhetoric is generalized to 
include dialectic and eristic, just as in Sophist, 222, 223, 7@a- 


569 245 C. in common with the five categories of the Sophist, the 
supreme science of the Symposium, or the vo@ecrs of the 


Pheedo and the Republic. 


vovpytxy embraces all forms of rhetoric, the higgling of the 
market, the Lucianic art of the parasite, and the whole 
teaching and eristic of the Sophists. 

571263 DE. 572265, 266 A. 57316C DE. 


574 The division of all things into wépas, amecpov, ucxrov, 
and airia is given in a different connection, and has nothing 


575 Pheedr., 250 D, seems destined to misinterpretation. 
LUTOSLAWSEI, p. 339, misses the meaning altogether, and 
Horn, pp. 212, 213, actually takes Sevevs épwras (understand- 
ing Sewovs in a bad sense) as Plato’s reason why we have no 
vivid images of other ideas than beauty, and objects that 
the passionate love of justice would be a good, since it 
would not be exposed to sensual excess! 


199 


74 Tue Unity or Piato’s THOUGHT 





a prelude is a mere commonplace of rhetoric, as in Phedo, 108C; Meno, 239C; 
Polit., 269 C. 

The argument that dialectic is first introduced as a new term in 266C will not 
bear scrutiny. In Philebus, 53 E, &vexd rov is introduced still more circumstantially. 
The ideas are a dream in Cratyl., 439 C; dialectic is dramatically led up to in Cratyl., 
390; and in Sophist, 265, 266, an elaborate explanation has to be given of what is taken 
for granted in the phrase ¢avtdcparta Oeia, Rep., 532C." Natorp says “der Begriff 
Dialektik ist im Gorgias noch nicht gepragt, sondern erst im Phedrus.” But 
&areyerOar is contrasted with pytopicy in the Gorgias, 448 D, and the term d:adexte- 
xos—n, if | may trust my memory and Ast, does not happen to occur in the Symposium, 
Theetetus, Timeus, Parmenides, Phedo, Philebus, or Laws. It is begging the 
question, then, to assume that d:adéyec8ae in the Gorgias does not connote true Pla- 
tonic dvarextiK}, but only Socratic conversation. There is not a word about “damo- 
nischen didAextos”” in Symp., 202 E, 203 A, and the notion of philosophy as the seeking 
rather than the attainment of knowledge occurs not only in Symp., 203 D—204B, 
“after” the Phaedrus, but in Lysis, 218 A. As for Aéyov téyvy, it is any ‘‘art of 
words,” whether actual or ideal rhetoric, dialectic, or even eristic.’ It is uncritical to 
press the various meanings which different contexts lend to such a general expression. 
Rhetoric is called the Aéywr réyvn in 260 D, but Socrates immediately adds that there 
is no true Aéyew Téyvyn avev Tod adrnOetas HPOar; 7. e., without dialectic. There is, then, 
no inconsistency between this and the use of ts mept tods Adyous Téxvyns in Pheedo, 
90B; nor can it be said that the Adyar weBodos of Sophist, 227 A, differs appreciably 
from the péBodos of Phedr., 270 D." Lastly, Natorp’s argument (pp. 408-10) that 
the method of cuvvaywy) and écaipeows described in the Phaedrus does not go far 
beyond the suggestions of the Gorgias and Meno is, of course, merely a further con- 
firmation of our main thesis. But when he adds that idéa is used vaguely in 237 D, 
238 A, 246A, 253 B, etc., and not, as in the “later”? Republic and Phedo, in the 
strict sense of Platonic idea, the reply must be that this vague, untechnical use of 
eldos and (déa is always possible in Plato.” Omitting Theetetus, 184 D, since Natorp 
thinks that also “early,” we find it in Rep., 507 EH; Philebus, 64E, and Cratylus, 
418 E, where aya@od iééa does not mean ‘‘idea of good.” Since the transcendental idea 
is established for the Phadrus, of what possible significance is the occasional use of 
the word éé€a in a less technical sense ? 

These illustrations might be multiplied indefinitely. They do not establish a 
universal negative, but they certainly create a presumption against all arguments of 
the type which careful scrutiny always shows to be fallacious. And the experience of 
the untrustworthiness of many such arguments creates in the minds of sober philolo- 
gians a more justifiable ‘“misology” than that which Plato deprecates in the Phado. 


576 See ADAM, ad loc. 518 Of, supra, n, 377, 
517 Buthyd., 288 A, vperépas téxvyns ... , ovTwWo Oavwaerns 579See JOWETT AND CAMPBELL, Vol. II, pp. 294 ff. 


ovaons «is axpiBecav Adywr, 


200 


PauL SHOREY 75 





THE CRATYLUS 
In vivacity and comic verve the Cratylus is “early,” in maturity and subtlety 
of thought “late.” Its most obvious feature, the playful allegorical use of etymol- 
ogizing, is anticipated or recalled in many other dialogues.” Admirable is the art 


580 


with which etymologies recognized to be little better than puns are made the vehicle 
of a true philosophy of language, and a profound discussion of the relations of lan- 
guage and thought. 

With this we are not concerned. We have already seen that the attempt to 
assign the dialogue an early place in the development of Plato’s own thought breaks 
down.” Plato is “already” in full possession of the theory of ideas and of the essen- 


583 


tial arguments of his polemic against the flowing philosophers.’ His repudiation of 
eristic fallacies is as distinct and as clearly, if not as fully, expressed as it is in the 
Euthydemus and Sophist.™ 

It remains merely to enumerate, as a part of our cumulative argument, some of 
the minor resemblances that link the Cratylus to its predecessors or successors, and 
make it a sort of abbreviated repertory of Platonic thoughts and classifications. In 
386 D there is a reference to the doctrine of Euthydemus: waou wdvta opotws elvar 
dpa kat aet. In 386 D, mpates are an eidos Tay ovtav; cf. Theetet., 155 E. In 387B 
Leyew is mpatrew, cf. Huthyd.,284C. In 388 C dvoua dpa didacKkadikdy te éotw dpyavov 
kal dvaxpitiKoy Tis ovclas, coupled with the statement, 390 BC, that only the dialec- 
tician can use this tool, implies the imagery and doctrine of Sophist, 226-31 B, where 
the «a@apors of dialectic and Sophistic is a branch of dvaxpitixhs. In 390 B the state- 
ment that the user is the best judge recalls Huthyd., 289 D; Rep., 601 D, and is implied 
in Phedr., 274 E. In 390C éepwrav kai aroxpivesBat émiotdpevov may be compared 
with Phedo, 75D. In 390 D the dialectician, as érvotdtns, suggests Huthyd., 290 C; 
Rep., 528 B. In 392C the view of the capacity of women is that of Rep., 455 D. 
With 394 D cf. Rep., 415 B, on the probability that good men will breed true. With 
396 C, opaca Ta avo, cf. Rep., 509D. In 398 A-C the image of the golden race, and 
the identification of good men with demons recall Repub., 415A and 540C. In 
398 E the rhetorician is akin to the dialectician (€pwtntiKol épas, cf. Symp.), which 
makes against Sidgwick’s view that in the earlier dialogues the Sophist is a rheto- 
rician, in the later an eristic. In 399C man is distinguished from the brute by con- 
ceptual thought, as in Phedr., 249B. In 400B the conceit cdua ofa repeats 
Gorgias, 493 A. In 401 B petewpordyor kai ador€oyar Tes is precisely in the tone 
of Pheedr., 270 A., adorecyias Kal petewporoyias pioews répt. In 401 C ovoia ‘Kota 
recalls Pheedr., 247 A. In 403, 404 characteristic doctrines of the Phaedo, Gorgias, 
and Symp. are implied concerning the naked soul, the invisible world, death, ém@upia 
as desyos, and the yearning of the soul for pure knowledge. Cf. Gorg., 523 C; Phaedo, 
83CD, 67 E-68 A. In 408C the association of Adyos adnOys Te Kal Yrevdys with the 


580 NATORP, however, Archiv, Vol. XII, p. 163, thinks 582 Supra, pp. 54, 56, 51, n. 373. 
the lack of dramatic mise en scéne a mark of lateness. 583 Supra, p. 33, 0. 218, n. 539, 
581See JowETT’s Index, s. v. “ Etymology.” 584 Supra, p. o4, 


201 


76 Tuer Unity or PLATo’s THOUGHT 








movements of the All recalls Tim., 37 BC. The quibble *mépa, juepa, 418 D, is 
repeated in Tim.,45B. In 418 E aya6obd idéa 70 déov is explained by Rep., 336 D. 
In 419 C Avr ao ris &cadvcews implies the doctrine of Phileb., 31D, and Tim., 64D. 
In 422 A orovyeta is used for elements, as in Tim., 56 B; Theeetet., 201 E. In 423CD 
music is “‘already” piunow. In 428C the eEaratacbat aitov bf’ avrod is virtually the 
“voluntary lie” of Rep., 382 A. In 436 D the emphasis laid on the apy7 or hypothesis 
(imexetat) recalls Phaedo, 101 D, 107 B. 


THE EUTHYDEMUS 


The Huthydenus in subtlety of logical analysis, and in its attitude toward eristic, 
is akin to the Sophist and Theetetus.” The question, Can virtue be taught? the pro- 
treptic discourses, and the quest for the political art resume similar discussions in the 
Meno, Protagoras, Charmides, and Gorgias.” To the partisans of development the 
dialogue offers a dilemma. Hither this mature logic must be assigned to an early 
work, or a late work may display comic verve of style and engage in a purely dramatic, 
apparently unsuccessful, Socratic search for the political art.” 

A systematic analysis would be superfluous after Bonitz, Grote, and Jowett. But 
the Huthydemus, like the Cratylus, is a repertory of Platonic thoughts that link it to 
“earlier” and “later” dialogues. A few of these may be enumerated: 273 C, avdtov 
avT@ Bonbeiy ev rots Sieaatnpios; cf. Gorg., 509 B; 275 D, the captious question, Are 
those who learn of codot 7 of auabeis? merely illustrates the doctrine of Lysis, 218 A; 
Symp., 203 E; Soph., 229 C, 276 D ff.; do they learn @ ériotaytat 7 & py, recalls the 
method cata 76 etdévac 7) ut eldévar of the Thectetus,* and the distinction between 
erioTnuns €&is and xthow; cf. 277 C and 278 A with Thectet., 197 B; in 276 E apuxta 
is used as in Thecetet., 165 B; 278 B mpoorailey is used for eristic, as matfew in 
Thecetet., 167E; 280K, 76 6€ ovte Kaxdov otte ayabov; cf. Lysis, 216D; Gorg., 
467 E; 282B, ovdév aicypov . . . . dovrevew . . . . epactn . . . . TpoOupotpevov copov 
yeverOa, cf. Symp., 184C; 284 B, Aéyev is mpatrev, cf. Cratyl., 3887B; 287A, if 
there is no error, Tivos dvdacKaror HeeTe, cf. Thecetet., 161 EH, 178 E; 287 D, zrotepov ody 
Wuxny Exovta voet Ta voodvta. The quibble suggests the metaphysical problem of 
Parmen., 132D, cf. A. J. P., Vol. XXII, p. 161; 289 C, the art of the user and the 
art of the maker, cf. Rep., 601 D, Cratyl., 390 B, 290 A, cf. Gorg., 454; 290 CD, ef. 
Polit., 805A, and supra, p. 62; 290C, the mathematician subordinated to the 
dialectician, cf. Rep., 528 B; 291 B, @o7ep Ta radia Ta ToUs Kopvdous Si@KoVTa, etc., is 
the germ of the image of the aviary in the Theetetus; 291 C, ef. Polit., 259D; 292 D, 
cf. Charm., 167C, Meno, 100 A, Protag., 312D; 301A, cf. supra, n. 199; 301 B, 
ef. supra, n. 426. 


58 Supra, pp. 54, 58. verbreitet ist. Man sollte doch in Erw&gen ziehen, ob 
denn jene Ruhe und Sicherheit der Discussion einer Frage 
als Frage fir jemand modglich ist, fiir den sie eben nur 
noch Problem ist und eine Moglichkeit der Losung sich 
nicht dargeboten hat.” 


586 Of, Idea of Good, p. 204; supra, n. 97. 

587292; cf. supra, nu. 71. Bonrrz, p. 125, protests against 
the assumption that Plato is really baffled in 292 E, and 
sensibly adds: ‘Ich erwihne dies nur, weil diese Art der 
Folgerung und der Erklarung Platonischer Dialoge weit 588 Supra, nn. 547, 548. 


202 


PauL SHOREY 77 





The significance of the closing conversation with Crito is often missed.“ Nothing, 
of course, can be inferred from the casual admission (307 A) that ypnuatioruch and 
pntopixn are aya0ov; or from the “contradiction” of the Republic in the statement that 
philosophy and wodcti«n pats are both ayadv, but mpos dAdo Exatépa. Socrates is 
speaking to his worthy friend the business man Crito from the point of view of common- 


sense. We have also seen that the allusion to Isocrates (?) does not determine the 
date."” Plato is defending himself and Socrates against the criticism that such trivial 


eristic is unworthy of the attention of a man of sense. The dignified rhetorician to 
whom the criticism is attributed, like Isocrates, confounds eristic with philosophy and 
proclaims the futility of both.” Plato replies (1) that in philosophy as in other 
pursuits the majority are bad; (2) even eristic may be a useful logical discipline. 
The second thought is implied rather than expressed. It is implied by the interven- 
tion of the daudvov (272 KE) and by the statement that the gentlemen who in 
Prodicus’s phrase™ hold the borderland of philosophy and politics, and who think the 
philosophers their only rivals for the first place, are badly mauled in private conversa- 
tion when they fall into the hands of eristics like Euthydemus.** Socrates, on the other 
hand, though ironically admitting defeat, has shown himself throughout able to do 
what is postulated of the true dialectician in the Sophist, 259 C: tots Aeyouevars oidv Te 


elvat Ka?’ Exactov €dX€yxovTa éraxonrovbeiv.”™ 


The multitude think such logical exercise 
unbecoming. But that is because, in the words of the Parmenides (136 D), ayvoovcr 
... . Ore dvev TadTns THs Sia TdvTwov deEdSou Te Kal TAAYYS ad’vaTOY évTUYdVTA THO AANOE 
voov éxev. But Socrates, regardless of personal dignity, welcomes every occasion for 
intellectual exercise: ott Tis Epws dewwos evddduKe THs TEpl TadTa yumvacias (Thectet., 
169C). 

PROTAGORAS, GORGIAS, MENO, SYMPOSIUM, PHA=SDO, AND REPUBLIC 


The leading ideas of these dialogues have already been studied, and it is not 
necessary to analyze them in detail.“ We may acquiesce in the presumption that the 
Protagoras, Gorgias, and Meno are somewhat earlier in manner and style*” without 


589 GROTE, e. g., says: ‘In the epilogue Euthydemus is ADAM (edition of Republic, index, s. v. “‘Isocrates’’). Ob- 


cited as the representative of true dialectic and philoso- 
phy.” 
590 Supra, p. 72. 


591305 A, kat ofroc (Dionysodorus and Euthydemus) év 
TOis KpaTioTOLs €iot TOY VOY, 


592See Jont, Der echte und der xenophontische Sokra- 
tes, Vol. II, p. 634. 


593 305 D, €v 5€ trois iSiors Adyors bray amoAcpOaow. Cf. 
Thecetet., 177 B, ore av iSia Aoyov Sey Sodvai re kai SeEagbar. The 
rhetorician is helpless in the hands of either the philoso- 
pher or the eristic. 

594 Of. supra, on. 117, 426. 


596 SUDHAUS, Rhein. Mus., 44, p. 52, tries to assign the 
Gorgias to the year 376 between the To Nikokles and the 
Nikokles. He is refuted by Dimmunr, Kleine Schriften, I, 
pp. 79 ff., who proposes other Isocratean parallels, which 
are courteously, but sensibly, minimized or rejected by 


595 See Index. 


viously, barely conceivable references in Plato to an Iso- 
cratean type of thought or a Gorgian style prove nothing. 
Nor can anything be inferred from coincidence in common- 
places or in ideas that can be found in Euripides and 
Thucydides. It would be easy to ‘tprove”’ by these methods 
that the Busiris follows the Republic and precedes the 
Symposium which contradicts it (cf. Busiris, 4, with Symp., 
198 D). Strangely enough, the very critics who force a 
reference to the Helena upon Republic, 586C, are apt to 
reject, in the interest of their chronology, the two almost 
certain citations of Isocrates by Plato, that in Phedr., 
267 A (supra, p. 71), and that in Gorgias, 463 A, where Isoc, 
x, cop, 17 Kat Wuxis avipixys Kai Sofacrixhs epyov elvar is wittily 
parodied by Wuxijs 6@ oroxaotixijs Kat avdpetas. Diimmler 
calls this a “nicht einmal wortliche Uebereinstimmung in 
einem banalen Gemeinplatz.” But the very point of the 
jest lies in the substitution of the lower word, croxacrixjjs, 
for the term Sofaorxyjs intentionally employed by Isocrates 
to mark the superiority of his dé to the pretended 


203 


78 Tue Unity oF Puato’s THovuGHT 





admitting that there is any traceable development of doctrine.“ There is also, as 
we have seen, no evidence in the thought sufficient to date the Symposium and 
Pheedo relatively to each other or to the Republic, the Phedrus, and the Theetetus.™ 
Pfleiderer thinks the Symposium the first dialogue of Plato’s “third phase,’ which 
includes the Philebus, Timeus, Critias, and Laws. He sees in Symp., 209-12, a 
review of Plato’s previous career, with many allusions to the different “phases” 
of the Republic (p. 46). So also Dimmler, infra, n. 619. It suffices for our pur- 
pose that all these dialogues were written after Plato had attained maturity of years, 
and presumably of thought—the Meno after 395,” the Gorgias after Isocrates’s 
Against the Sophists, the Symposium after the year 385, the Phadrus probably after 
Isocrates’s Panegyricus. That the Phado cites the Meno is probable.” That the 
Republic alludes to the Pheedo is possible, but not necessary;"” and, having other 
reasons for believing the Phedrus to be later than the Gorgias, we may assume that 
Pheedrus, 260 D, 261 A, alludes to Gorgias, 462 B, without, however, admitting the 
validity of such arguments as Siebeck’s suggestion (p. 116) that Opéupata yevvaia 
intentionally characterizes the Adyou as “etwas Herangepflegtes, Ausgearbeitetes.” 

But it is idle to pursue this cxapayéa further. 

The chief witness to the unity of Plato’s thought is the Republic, the great work 
of his maturity and the most complete synthesis of his teaching. It is presumably 
later than most of the minor Socratic dialogues,"” but it completes rather than contra- 
dicts them, and their methods imply its results.‘ It is earlier than the Laws and 
Timeus, and probably than all or most of the dialectical dialogues, but they do not 
contradict it, and they develop no important idea which it does not distinctly suggest.” 

It is generally dated somewhere between 380 and 370, and we may say, if we 
please, that it was published when Plato was about fifty-five years of age, but any date 


between his fortieth and sixtieth year will serve as well. 


ém.oTyuy of the metaphysicians. On the other hand, though 
the Pheedr. is in point of fact probably later, nothing can be 
inferred from its agreement with Isocrates (Phedr., 269D; 
Isoc. in Sophist, 17) in the commonplace that émorjpyn, 
wedérn and pvats are indispensable to the complete rhetor. 
They are requisites of the ixavds aywvrorns in any pursuit, 
as is distinctly stated in Rep., 374DE. Noris anything to 
be learned by pressing too closely the various possible 
meanings of émorjun— knowledge of the Isocratean rules 
of rhetoric, knowledge of dialectic and psychology that 
might make rhetoric an art in Plato’s opinion, knowledge 
of the subject-matter of the discourse. 

597 ZELLER says, p. 527, that the Protagoras, which 
assumes the identity of the good and the pleasurable, 
“must”? be later than Gorg., 495 ff., and all subsequent 
dialogues. But cf. supra, p. 20. Horn finds in Protag., 
Gorg., and Phedo the following Denkfortschritt: (1) Die 
Lust ist das Gute. (2) Die Lust ist nicht das Gute. (3) Die 
Lust ist das Bose! In Phedr., Symp., Phoeedo he sees a 
falling away in middle life from the youthful faith in 
immortality to which age returns! Lutoslawski thinks 
that the diseussion about the identity of the tragie and 
comic poet at the end of the Symposium is an apology for 
the comic touches in that dialogue and an announcement 


606 


of the Phedo. But PFLEIDERER (p. 92) finds that “‘das 
Allegro des Symposion .... auf die schwermfitigernsten 
Trauerklange des vorhergehenden Sterbedialogs nunmehr 
die verklarten Harmonien einer wiedergefundenen Lebens- 
stimmung folgen lasst.” It’s a poor argument that will not 
work both ways! 

598 Supra, pp. 19, 40 ff., 43. 59990 A. 

600193 A. It is, of course, just conceivable that, as WIL- 
AMOWITZ aflirms (Hermes, Vol. XXXII, p, 102), the allusion 
is to the events of the year 418. But we are still waiting 
for his proof that Plato commits no intentional anachron- 
isms. 

60173 A; Meno, 82 ff. Itis not necessary, for Plato prob- 
ably often illustrated avayvnors by geometrical cross- 
examination in the school. 

602 Rep., 611 B, oi dAdo (Adyor) need not be the specific 
proofs of immortality given in the Phado. 

603 StrEBECK, however (p. 126), thinks that the Laches is 
the fuller discussion of courage “ promised” in Rep., 430C, 
avOes 5é epi avrov, éav BovAn ere KaAALOV Sitmev, 

604 Cf, supra, pp. 14, 15. 

605 Supra, nn, 244, 375, pp. 84, 36, 42, 46, 55, 62. 

606 See ZELLER (pp. 551 ff.), who dates it in 375, The 
coincidences between the Republic and the Ecclesiazousae 


204 


PAUL SHOREY 79 








The relations already indicated between the Republic and other dialogues force 
extreme partisans of “development” to break it up into distinct sections which they 
Such hypotheses are beyond the scope of serious criti- 
It can 


assign to different periods.” 
cism, which in the total absence of evidence can neither affirm nor deny them. 
only point out the fallacy of the reasoning by which they are supported. The “argu- 
ments” of Krohn, Pfleiderer, and their followers have been refuted in more than suffi- 
cient detail by Hirmer, Campbell,” Grimmelt, and other defenders of the unity of the 
Republic. They may be reduced, broadly speaking, to a petitio principii and a few 
typical fallacies. 
ing links and cross-references that bind together the “parts” of the Republic were 
The chief and fundamental fallacy is the appli- 


The petitio principii is the assumption that the numerous connect- 


inserted by Plato as an afterthought. 
cation to a great and complex literary masterpiece of canons of consistency and unity 
drawn from the inner consciousness of professional philologians. The architectural 
unity of the Republic is superior to that of the Laws, the Philebus, the Phaedrus, or 
to that of the parts into which the disintegrators resolve it, many of which plainly 
could not exist by themselves. Secondary intentions, a prelude, digressions, and a 
peroration, postlude, afterpiece, or appendix may be expected in so long a work. As 
Jowett sensibly says:“” ‘‘We may as well speak of many designs as one; nor need any- 
thing be excluded from the plan of a great work to which the mind is naturally led by 
the association of ideas and which does not interfere with the general purpose.” It is 
uncritical, then, to assume a central argument and prune off everything that is not 
indispensable to its development. The argument might conceivably have started from 
the restatement of the problem by Glaucon and Adeimantus at the beginning of the 
second book. Plato might have drawn up a sketch of a reformed state, omitting all 
mention of the higher education, the rule of the philosophers, and the degenerate 
forms of government. He might have closed the work abruptly with the demonstra- 
tion of the main thesis at the end of the ninth book. Or, if he wished to add the 
myth, he might have omitted or found another place for the digression in which the 
banishment of the poets is justified on deeper grounds. But these bare possibilities 
do not raise the slightest presumption that the Republic was, in fact, pieced together 
out of detached and disjointed essays. The different topics were closely associated in 
Plato’s thought. And if they were all present to his mind from the beginning, it 


of Aristophanes yield at the most a terminus post quem. the picture of the tyrant (577) ‘““must” fall after the first 


Cf. HrgMer, ““Entstehung und Komp. d. Plat. Rep.,” Jahr- 
biicher fiir Phil., Suppl., N. F., Vol. XXIII, p. 655; ADAM, 
The Republic of Plato, Vol. 1, pp. 345-55. H1igMER (pp. 660 ff.) 
disposes of the attempt to date the Republic by the allu- 
sion to Ismenias (336A), and to Polydamas (338C), by the 
supposed allusion to Eudoxus (530), and by REINHARDT’S 
reference of 410BC to Isocrates’s Antidosis, 181, and of 
498 DE to the Areopagiticus. He himself, with as little 
proof, thinks that 498 DE alludes to the Euagoras. He 
dates the completion of the Republic circa 370: (1) because, 
after Christ, he believes that the protest against interne- 
cine war between Greeks (471 A-C) “‘must” refer to the 
destruction of Platwa by the Thebans in 374; (2) because 


Sicilian journey and before the second when Plato was on 
friendly terms with Dionysius the younger; (3) because 
Curist has “ proved” that the eleventh epistle (circa 364) 
is genuine, and the eleventh epistle implies the completion 
of the Republic and the beginning of the Timaus. 

607 PFLEIDERER, Zur Lésung d. plat. Frage, p. 79: “Das 
Zusammenwerfen ganz verschiedener Phasen in der Rep., 
wie ich behaupte, musste nothwendig fir Jeden, der sonst 
gerne Phasen und Perioden gesehen hatte, die geahnten 
Grenzlinien wieder verwischen.”’ 

608 Republic, Vol. II, essay IIT. 

609 Vol, ITI, p. vii. 


205 


50 THr Unity or Piato’s THOUGHT 





would not be easy to suggest a more natural and effective order of presentation than 
that in which we now read them. 

To prove, then, that, as a matter of fact, the “parts” of the Republic were com- 
posed at different times recourse is had to two other fallacies: (1) it is assumed that 
what is not explicitly mentioned in any part is not known to the author at the time; and 
(2) slight variations in phrasing are taken to imply serious differences of doctrine. 
The application of this method to the theory of ideas and to Plato’s psychology has 
already been considered.” A few words may be added here on the second point. 
Rohde" says that the immortality of the soul is ignored in the earliest part, II-V, 
471 C; first appears as a paradox in X, 608 D; and is assumed in its sublimest form 
in VI, VII. But his arguments will not bear scrutiny. ‘Was nach dem Tode kom- 
men moge, sollen die @vAaxes nicht beachten” (III, cap. iff.), is an unwarranted 
inference from Plato’s polemic against Homeric verses that represent death as terrible 
to all men, even the good—an idea which Plato would always have repudiated. The 
sneers in 363 C D and 366 A B at future rewards are directed against low ideals—the 
KEOnv ai@wov—or are intended to emphasize the necessity of first proving that virtue 
is desirable for its own sake. When that is done, it is 767 aver(pOovov (612 B) to add 
the rewards; and there is no more inconsistency in reintroducing in a nobler form the 
premiums which the gods bestow upon virtue after death than there is in the with- 
drawal of the supposition that the just man is to be reputed unjust, and in the affirma- 
tion that in fact honesty 7s the best policy, though that is not the sole or the chief 
reason for practicing it."” 

The omission of all reference to immortality in the first nine books would prove 
nothing. It is equally ignored in the first nine books of the Laws, and is first 
explicitly mentioned in XII, 959. Glaucon’s dramatic surprise at Socrates’s confident 
assertion of immortality proves nothing for Plato. The idea is familiar to the Gorgias 
and Meno. And even if we deny the reference of 611B to the Phedo, and with 
Rohde place the Phado after the Republic, the tenth book of the Republic knows the 
ideas, and even the tpitos avOpwzros, and cannot therefore be placed before the Gorgias 
by those who make use of arguments from development. In speaking of immortality 
Plato naturally tries to qualify and limit the doctrine of the tripartite soul."* He can 
only fall back upon poetical imagery and affirm his faith that in its true nature the 
(immortal part of the) soul must be one and simple. It is a waste of ingenuity to 
attempt to find a consistent chronological development in this point in the Pheedrus; 
Rep., 11-V, X; Phedo, and Timeus. It is perfectly true, as Dimmler argues,” that 


610 Supra, pp. 36, 40 ff. 611 Psyche, pp. 588 ff. kann irgendwelche utilitaristische Begriindung nicht 
612 Srepeck (p. 144) and DUmmuer (Vol. I, p. 248), it is | Mehrinteressieren.’”” Terriblelogic! Are modern believers 
in immortality wholly indifferent to utilitarian considera- 
tions “als Zugabe”? And had Plato no interest in the 
psychological proofs that the virtuous life is, even in this 
world, the most pleasurable, given in the Laws, the Phile- 
bus, and the ninth book of the Republic? 


true, find fault with this too, on the ground that the 
Socrates of the tenth book does not repeat every point of 
the hypothesis like a lawyer, and forgets the stipulation 
that the unjust man was to have the power, if detected, 


to defy punishment, or the wealth to buy off the gods. 
Diimmler also objects that ‘‘nachdem die Perspektive auf 613 Supra, pp. 42, 46. 
die Ewigkeit als péy:ora 40a der Tugend bezeichnet war, 614 Vol, I, pp. 256 ff. 


206 


PAauL SHOREY 81 





if the soul is really one, the definition of justice as a relation between its parts loses all 
meaning. But such “inconsistencies” are inherent in human thought, and prove 
nothing for the relative dates of Book X and Books II-V. 


logian produce definitions of the virtues that will apply to man in his earthly state 


Can any modern theo- 
and to the disembodied soul ?”” 

Lutoslawski, while rejecting the fancies of Krohn and Pfleiderer, holds it pos- 
sible to show that the first book 
Pheedo, and that the remaining books follow the Phado and reveal traces of progressive 
development of doctrine. The following parallel illustrates the force of his arguments: 


of the Republic falls between the Gorgias and the 


P. 318: “ Here’ for the first time occurs a 
formulation of the law of contradiction as a 
law of thought, while in the Phedo and earlier 
books of the Republic it was a metaphysical 
law.” 


P. 277: “This sharp and general formula- 
tion of the law of contradiction,’ not only as 
a law of thought as in Phedo,™ but for the 
first time as a law of being .... is a very 
important step.” 


Lastly, a word must be said of the attempt to trace a development in Plato’s 
treatment of poetry. The contradictions of those who employ this method might be 
left to cancel one another.” But the whole procedure is uncritical. Plato was always 
sensitive to poetic genius, and there was no time when he might not have praised 
Homer without conspicuous irony.™ But he always regarded the poet as an imitator, 
whose aim is pleasure rather than the good, whose ethical teaching must be inter- 
preted or controlled by the philosopher, and whose fine sayings are the product of 
“inspiration” rather than of knowledge. The Apology” anticipates the Republic in 
the doctrine that the poets do not know whereof they speak, and the Phadrus in the 
theory of poetic inspiration. The Gorgias, 502 BCD, deals with the moral influence 
of poetry upon the masses in the tone of the Republic and Laws; and like Republic, 
601 B, strips from the body of the poet’s discourse the meretricious adornment of the 
poetic dress. The doctrine that poetry is wéunow is sufficiently implied in Cratylus, 
423, where the mimetic value of words is discussed, and where povovxy is classified as 
Binnow. The differences between the tenth and the third books of the Republic 
cannot be pressed. The third book hints that there is more to come ;™ and the tenth 
book announces itself as a profounder discussion, based on psychological distinctions 
brought out in the intervening books. But it is begging the question to assume that 
they were discovered by Plato after the composition of the third book. The fact that 


615 Cf. supra, pp. 6, 7, and HrrMeERr, p. 641. 
616 436 B. 617 102 KE. 618602 E. 


619 LUTOSLAWSKI says that Plato’s scorn of poetry de- 
veloped after the Symposium, and that the tenth book of 
the Republic is therefore later than the Phedo, which 
praises Homer without irony, and earlier than Phaedrus 
and Theetetus, which take for granted the low estimate of 
the poet. But NAtTorp, thinking of other passages of the 
Pheedrus, is positive that such a dialogue could not have 
been written after the rejection of poetry in the Republic; 
while DUMMLER (Vol. I, p. 269) places the Symposium after 


the Republic, and sees init a return from the bitter mood 
of the Gorgias and Republic to a calmer and more generous 
state of mind: “Da ist er auch gerecht gegen andere; 
Homer und Hesiod, Lykurg und Solon sieht er unter sich, 
aber hoch tiber anderen!” 

620 Pheedo, 95 A, ovte yap av . .. . ‘Ounpw beiw momtp 
OmoAoyoimev OvVTE avTOL Huy av’Tois; Laws, 776 EB, 6 S€ cobwrartos 
yu Tov TomTey—in both passages seriously, as the con- 
text shows, 

62123C; ef. the Jon. and Meno, 99 E. 


622 394 D, tows Sé xai mAciw Ett TovTwY, 


207 


82 THe Unity or PiLato’s THOUGHT 








in emphasizing the distinction between dramatic and narrative poetry Plato carelessly 


623 


speaks as if the former alone were imitative, proves nothing.” A far more important 
new point made in the tenth book is already distinctly implied in the Protagoras— 
the antithesis between the principle of measure in the soul and 7 Tod dawopevouv 
dvvamis,’* to which poetry makes its appeal.“’ The mood of the Symposium differs 
from that of the Gorgias and the Republic. But this does not prove either that the 
Symposium is earlier, or that Plato had been mellowed by success. A banquet at 
which Agathon was host and Aristophanes a guest was obviously not the place for a 
polemic against dramatic poetry. But even here the ironical superiority of the dialec- 
tician is maintained, and the inability of the poets to interpret or defend their art is 


revealed.*” 


CONCLUSION. IDEAS AND NUMBERS. THE LAWS 


The value of Plato’s life-work would be very slightly affected even if it were true 
that in the weakness of extreme old age the noble light of his philosophy did “ go out 
in a fog of mystical Pythagoreanism.” It is not in the least true, however, and the 
prevalence of the notion is due mainly (1) to the uncritical acceptance of the tradition 
concerning Plato’s “latest” doctrine of ideas and numbers; and (2) to the disparaging 
estimate of the Laws expressed by those who care only for dramatic charm of style, or 
by radicals like Grote, who are offended by the ‘‘ bigotry” of a few passages. A word 
must be said on each of these points. 

1. Aristotle’s account of Plato’s later identification of ideas and numbers has 
been generally accepted since Trendelenburg’s dissertation on the subject.“ Zeller 
rightly points out that the doctrine is not found in the extant writings, but adds that 
for Plato numbers are entities intermediate between ideas and things of sense. In 
my discussion of the subject" I tried to establish two points: first, that we need not 
accept the testimony of Aristotle, who often misunderstood Plato, and was himself 
not clear as to the relation of mathematical and other ideas; second, that the doctrine 
of numbers as intermediate entities is not to be found in Plato, but that the passages 
which misled Zeller may well have been the chief source of the whole tradition about 
ideas and numbers. I did not deny the testi- 
mony of Aristotle, and no one who chooses to accept it can be refuted. The relation 
of ideas to numbers was doubtless much debated by the scholastics of the Academy. 
Aristotle’s reports of the intolerable logomachy do not make it clear just how much 
of this nonsense he attributed to Plato. But I do not intend to enter upon the inter- 
pretation of the eleventh and twelfth books of the Metaphysics. No reader would 


The first point is a matter of opinion. 


623393 C, 394 D. 6% Protag., 396 D. man is “inspired” by the tragic muse, another by the 


625 Rep., 602, 603. 

626 201 B, xwduvetw, & Suwxpares, ovdév eidévac dv tore elzov, 
Kai piv Kaas ye eines, pavar, & Ayadwv, Cf. also 223 D, where 
Socrates compels Agathon and Aristophanes to admit 70d 
avrov avépds elvac Kwuwdiav Kal tpaywdiav émiotacPar moceiv, 
This is thought to contradict Repub., 395 A, but the contra- 
diction is removed by pressing téxvp in what follows. One 


comic. If poetry were a matter of science, the poet could 
use both forms, even as the scientific interpreter of poetry 
would not, like the “inspired” Ion, be limited to Homer. 
This we may plausibly conjecture to be the meaning. But 
it is only conjecture. 

627 Plat. de id. et numeris doctrina, 1828. 

628 De Plat. id. doctrina, pp. 31 ff. 


208 


PauL SHOREY 83 








follow me, and no results could be won. If Aristotle’s testimony be accepted, there is 
an end of controversy. Plato taught in his lectures the doctrine of ideas and numbers. 

But the second point is not so elusive. 
the extant writings do not recognize an intermediate class of mathematical numbers, 
Now Zeller 
He gives the impression that he 


Tle wholly 


It is possible to test the argument that 


and yet might easily suggest the notion to mechanical-minded students. 
in his fourth edition confounds the two questions. 
is answering me by a Quellenbelege from Aristotle and Philoponos. 
ignores my interpretation of a number of specific Platonic passages, which he appar- 
ently takes for the mere misunderstandings and blunders of a beginner.™ 
hope of convincing Zeller, nor do I wish to force myself into a polemic with the 
But, as Mr. J. Adam, a scholar 
whose scrupulous candor makes it a pleasure to argue with him, has expressed surprise 
in his edition of the Republic that I still adhere to my opinion in spite of the mass of 
evidence, I will endeavor to state my meaning more plainly. 

The theory of ideas, the hypostatization of all concepts, once granted, numbers 
do not differ from other ideas. 
denotes ideal numbers or the ideas of numbers, and épata 7) am7a copmata Eéxovtas 


I have no 


honored master of all who study Greek philosophy. 


The phrase, wept abdtav tov apiOpav (Rep., 525D), 


apiOwovs are numbered things, things of sense participant in number.” That is all 
there is of it, and there is no extant Platonic passage that this interpretation will not 
fit. For educational purposes it is true that mathematical science holds an inter- 
mediate place between dialectic and the perceptions of sense. Mathematical 
abstractions (7 mepl To év wdOnows, Rep., 525A) are the best propedeutic to abstract 
reasoning generally. But there is no distinction of kind between them and other 
abstractions, oxAnpov padrakov (Rep., 524A ff.). Mathematical science as dvavoa is 
midway between the pure vods of dialectic and the défa of sense. But that is because 
of its method—the reliance on diagrams (images) and hypotheses. In themselves its 
objects are explicitly stated to be pure vonta."* The “mathematical” numbers then 
are plainly the abstract, ideal numbers of the philosopher. The numbers of the 
vulgar are concrete numbered things. There is no trace of a third kind of number.™ 


Those who have not yet learned to apprehend abstractions mockingly ask the mathe- 


629 It may be permissible to add that he seems to have 
read other parts of the dissertation with more attention, 
since, to mention only two cases, he adds on p. 745 a’refer- 
ence & propos of the tpitos avOpwros to Republic, 596, 597, 
and Tim., 31 A, with the interpretation of their significance 
given on p. 30; and he omits from p. 547 of the third edition 
a sentence criticised on p. 49 of the dissertation, Another 
slight but significant point may be mentioned. Aristotle 
himself makes a not wholly clear distinction between 
mathematical ideas (ta é€v apatpécer Acydueva, almost tech- 
nical) and other ideas. In illustration of this I objected 
to Zeller’s interpretation of De An., 482a2, év tots eideat Tots 
aig@ytois Ta vonTa €oTL , . . , TATE EV ahatpeger Acyoueva (‘die 
abstrakten Begriffe’’) Kai 60a tay aig@nTav Ekers Kai man, 
My objection was that both grammar and Aristotelian 
usage showed that 6ca trav aig®yrtav, ete., are also abstrak- 
te Begriffe (in the German or English sense of the words), 


the vonta being divided into two classes by te-xac. The 
sentence still stands, and I am quite willing to leave the 
question of Fliichtigkeit to any competent scholar, e. g., to 
M. Rodier, who translates ‘‘ les intelligibles, aussi bien les 
concepts abstraits (ou mathématiques) que (ceux qui ont 
pour objet) les qualités, etc.” 


630 Adam translates al’ta@v tov apiOuar, ‘numbers them- 
selves,” which is quite right. My point is that ‘* numbers 
themselves”? are proved by the context and by Philebus, 
56 E, to be ideal numbers. For Adam’s further argument 
cf. infra, p. 84. 


631 Rep., 510 D, rod retpaywvov airov évexa,.. . Kat Sta- 


métpov avths, add’ ov tavtys HY ypapovoww, 511 D, Katto. vonrav 


OvTwY META apX7S. 


632 Philed., 56 D E. 


209 


84 Tue Unity oF Puato’s THOUGHT 





maticians (Rep., 526A), wept rotwv apiOpav duaréyeoGe; and the answer is, wept TovTwy 
év SiavonOivat povov éyxepel, coupled with an exposition that recalls the Parmenides 
of the pure idea of unity.’ Simple as all this appears, it might easily be misunder- 
stood by the pupils of the Academy. Mathematics was intermediate from an 
educational point of view. In cosmogony numbers and geometrical forms are the 
mediators between chaos and the general idea of harmony and measure.“ The 
expression, numbers (arithmetic), of the vulgar and numbers of the philosopher would 
lead a perverse ingenuity to ask of the mathematicians, in the words of the Republic, 
mept totwy apiuav Siadéyecbe; Plato’s use of “dyad” and “triad” as convenient 
synomyms for the pure idea of two and three would be mistakenly supposed to imply 
a distinction.’ The innocent question (Rep., 524 C), ré otv wor’ éoti 70 wéya ad Kal 70 
opixpov,”” would suggest that it was a terminus technicus for some mysterious ultimate 
philosophical principle, and set students upon hunting it and its supposed synomyms 
through the dialogues, and, inasmuch as péya + opixpov indubitably = 2, it might 
well be identified with the indeterminate dyad and its supposed equivalents, or any 
other “principle” posited in antithesis to the one."” The folly once set a-going, there 
are no limits to its plausible developments. All the unanswerable questions as to the 
relation of ideas to things may assume special forms for special classes of ideas. Plato 
himself shows this for ideas of relative terms in a much misunderstood passage of the 
Parmenides.* The problem of the relations of numbered things, of the supposed 
mathematical numbers, and of ideal numbers, offered a rich feast for the quibblers and 
the éyupabeis of the Academy. “Before and after” is essential to number, but there 
is no “before and after” in the ideas. Multiplicity is inherent in number, but the 
“idea” even of a million must be one. Other ideas may be imperfectly copied by 
things, but is not the number five entirely present in five things? Echoes of this 
pitiful scholasticism are preserved for us in the metaphysics of Aristotle. But what 
possible reason can there be for attributing it to Plato? Adam himself (Vol. IT, p. 
160) repeats the disconsolate question: wept moiwv apiOuav diadréyeobe év ois 70 Ev ofov 
ipeis akvité ect, toov te Exactov Tay Tavtt Kal ovdé cpixpov d.adépoyv; and asks: 
“ Are we then to suppose that there are many ideas of ‘one’?” The answer is: “Yes, 
precisely, to the extent that there are many ideas of anything.” We have already 
seen (Rep., 476A) that every idea is per se one, and yet, not merely as reflected in 
phenomena, but 77 @AA7)A@v Kowwvia appears many. The contradiction is inherent in 
the theory of ideas. As against the multiplicity of phenomena, we insist on the indi- 
visible unity of the idea. But when we find the idea involved with other ideas in a 
number of instances, we are forced to use the plural. Plato does not, however, here 


633 Cf. Idea of Good, p. 222; Phileb., 56K, ei wn povada “Again, great and small, swift and slow are allowed to 
povados éxaaTns Ta Kupiwy pybeniav GAAnv aAAns Scapepovaay Tis exist nowhere without the mind, being entirely relative, 


Onoe. and changing as the frame or position of the organs of 
634 Tim., 53 B ff.; Phileb., 66A. sense varies.” 
635 Pheedo, 101C; Parmen., 149C; Phedo, 104. 637 De Plat. id., p. 37. 
636 Plato is using the terms precisely as BERKELEY does 638 133C ff.; cf. A. J. P., Vol. IX, p. 288. 


when he says (Principles of Human Knowledge, X1): 


210 


PauL SHOREY 85 








in terms pluralize the “one.” He says: Of what numbers do you speak in which the 
one, i. e., the idea of one, present in each as a constituent and essential part of the 
more complex idea, etc.? Of course, this implies a multiplicity of units in each num- 
ber, and still more in all; but only as any idea is multiplied when it appears in a 
number of others. The multiplication of the idea ty T@v cwpdtwy Kowevia is more 
easily evaded than that 77 @AjA@v Kowvwvia, because in the first case we may use the 
imagery of pattern and copy, while, in the second case, the idea is an essential con- 
stituent part of that into which it enters. In the special case of numbers, the paradox 
is still more glaring. But Plato is not one to be frightened from the path of philo- 
sophical consistency by a paradox which he rightly regarded as largely verbal. In 
the Parmenides he amuses himself by showing that the idea of “one” itself apprehended 
™ Siavoia povov Kal’ avto breaks up into many.” 
necessary for the mathematician to apprehend the pure absolute idea of unity and 
restore it as fast as it is disintegrated by analysis or the senses."” 

2. Despite many passages of stately and impressive eloquence, the Laws will 
remain the type of ‘‘frigidity” for those who, like Lucian, read Plato mainly for the 
dramatic vivacity of the Phadrus 6r the artistic beauty of the Symposium. Our 
purpose is not to deny the altered mood and style that mark the masterpiece of Plato’s 
old age, but merely to protest against the notion that it may be safely neglected by 
the serious student, or that it presents a doctrine essentially different from that of the 
Republic. 

If Plato was not to rewrite the Republic, it was almost inevitable that his political 
studies should assume the form of a project of detailed legislation for a possible Greek 
city. But even here, while recognizing that many of his theoretic postulates will have 


This does not make it the less 


to be mitigated in practice,’ he holds fast in principle to the ideals of the earlier 
work.” A harmony of the Laws and Republic, however, though not a difficult task, 
would demand more space than can be given to it here. We need not delay to examine 
the contribution of the Laws to our knowledge of Greek institutions, or the very con- 
siderable influence which it exercised upon the speculations of Aristotle and later 
Greek thinkers. One service which it renders to students of the dialogues we have 
already often noted. 

As the years wore on, Plato naturally grew weary of Socratic irony, of the game 
of question and answer, of the dramatic illustration or the polemical analysis of eristic. 
Even in the earlier dialogues he sometimes evades or contemptuously explains away 
an equivocation which elsewhere he dramatically portrays or elaborately refutes.” In 
the Laws this is his habitual mood,‘ and in consequence the Laws may often be 
quoted for the true Platonic solution of problems which Socratic irony or dramatic art 
seems to leave unsolved in the earlier dialogues."” 

While acknowledging this change of mood, we must be on our guard against the 


639 143A, 144 EB, 40 Rep.,525E; supra, n. 647, 41 746. 644627 B, 627 D, 644 A, 864B. 
612739 C ff., 807 B. 643 Rep., 436 CDE, 437 A, 454 A; 645 Supra, pp. 13, 19, nn. 70, 71, 293. 
Cratyl., 481A; Symp., 187A; Luthyd., 277E. 
211 


86 THE Unity or Prato’s THoucHT 





exaggeration of its significance by Grote, Mill, and Gomperz. Grote had little appre- 
ciation of Plato’s substantive thought at any stage. He cared only for the dramatic 
illustration of the elenchus. This, which for the author was a means to an end, was 
for him the real Plato. The exposition of positive doctrine he treats as the work of a 
totally different person—a dogmatic Plato who has “ceased to be leader of the oppo- 
sition and passed over to the ministerial benches.” This view, which appears even in 
Grote’s treatment of the Gorgias and Thecetetus, is still more prominent in his criticism 
of the Republic. In the case of the Laws this feeling is intensified by the deep 
repugnance aroused in Grote’s mind by Plato’s whimsical provisions for the conversion 
or punishment of those who denied the truths of natural religion or traded upon the 
superstitions of the vulgar.“* He cannot speak of the Laws without alluding to that 
unfortunate page; and the vision which he conjured up of the aged Plato as the 
Torquemada of a Pythagorean mysticism makes him totally blind to the real signifi- 
cance of what in wealth of content is Plato’s greatest work. This view was accepted 
by Mill from Grote, and by Gomperz from Mill, and it leads them both to misappre- 
hend the true relation of the Laws to the Republic. Mill says: “In his second 
imaginary commonwealth, that of the Leges, it |dialectic] is no longer mentioned; it 
forms no part of the education either of the rulers or of the ruled.” Similarly 
Gomperz:"* “Plato in his old age grew averse from dialectic. In the Laws, the last 
product of his pen, he actually turned his back upon it and filled its vacant place at 
the head of the curriculum of education with mathematics and astronomy.’’“* These 
statements, even if we concede that they are true in a sense to the letter, convey a 
totally false impression, as a slight study of the last pages of the twelfth book of the 
Laws will show. Plato does not care to rewrite the sixth and seventh books of the 
Republic. But he defines as clearly as in the earlier work the necessity and function 
of dialectic and the higher education in the state. Even in the first book we are fore- 
warned that to complete the organization of the state the founder must set over it 
firaxas . . . . TOUS péev dia Ppovynceas Tors S€é 6’ AAnOods dons idvtas.”” In the twelfth 
book we are introduced to these guardians who are to possess knowledge and not merely 
right opinion. They compose a nocturnal council which is to be the anchor of the 
state.” 
us that as the pilot, the physician, the general represent intelligence (vots) applied to 
the definite ends of their respective arts, so this highest council is the head, the soul, 
the mind of the state, possessing knowledge of the political oxozds or true end of rule.” 


Recurring to the imagery and the manner of the early dialogues,” Plato tells 


646 908-10. 647 Diss. and Discuss., Vol. IV, p. 289. mentioning any other element of the higher education. 

643 Greck Thinkers, Translation, p. 466. The possessors of $péynots will surely be able xaz’ etdy £y- 
619'To like effect ZELLER, pp. 955, 956 teiv (630 £2) and will practice the dialectical methods of the 

5 sk Pe ee aah “recent” Sophist, Philebus,and Politicus. ZELLER’s attempt 

650632 C, The parallelism with the Republic is obvious. _to distinguish between ¢pornats and tho voids of the Republic 

There, too (412 A, 497 CD), there is a similar anticipation of isa false point. ¢poryors is used in Pheedo, 69 B. 

the need of guardians who know as distinguished from the 6519610 

assistants. In Laws, 818A, there is another anticipation . 

of the higher education. Mathematics only is mentioned 652 Protag., 311B; Gorg., 447, 448, 449 EB; Buthyd., 2910; 

because Plato is explaining that it is not needful for the Rep., 333. 

multitude to study it profoundly. There is no occasion for 653.961, 962. 


212 


PauL SHOREY 87 





No state can prosper or be saved unless such knowledge resides in some part of it as a 
duraxrnypiov.* The beginning of such knowledge is 10 px wAavacbat pos Toda 
atoxyatopevoy ard’ eis &v BrérovTa, etc."” 
things— wealth, power, and tov édevOepov 67) Biov. 
both four and one. The intelligent physician can define his one aim. Must not the 
intelligent ruler be able to define his? It is easy to show how the four virtues are 
many. To exhibit their unity is harder. 
know, not only the names, but the Adyos of things. And the true guardians, teachers, 
and rulers of a state must not merely rebuke vice and inculcate virtue, but they must 
*’ The state may be likened to the body, the younger 
* They cannot all be 


660 


Now ta Tay mroddwy vouipa aim at many 


656 


Our aim is virtue. But virtue is 


A man who amounts to anything must 


be able to teach jv dvvapuy exer. 
guardians to the senses in the head, the elders to the brain." 
educated alike. Therefore iréov dpa éri twa axpiBeotépay madelav Ths Eumpoober. 
This is the education already glanced at in our phrases about the unity of purpose. 
The essence of the more accurate method is our old acquaintance 70 mpos piav idéav 


661 


ek TOV TONY Kal avopotwy Suvatov eivat BrErev.”' The guardian must be able to do 


what Meno could not do—édeiv mpartov, 6 ti mote dua TavTwY TOY TeTTAPpwOY TavTOV 


2 


tuyyave.” And similarly wept kadXov Te Kal ayabod and tavtwy Tov oTrovdaiwy, the 
YX Y Y My 


must not only know in what sense each is one and many, but they must be able to 
expound their knowledge—riv évdeEw To Adyo evdeixvuc Oat.” 
clearly indicated, it would be pitiful quibbling to object that the word S:arexti«7 
does not happen to occur here. Its omission is possibly due to the fact that the 
Athenian throughout the Laws talks down to the level of his unsophisticated Spartan 
and Cretan interlocutors. Mathematics and astronomy, then, are not substituted for 
dialectic, but are added for a special reason among the o7ovéata which the guardians 
must understand with real knowledge. The multitude may follow tradition. The 
guardians must be able to demonstrate the truths of natural religion, as we have done.™ 
Astronomy, the study of the ordered movements of the heavens, is a great aid to this. 


The thing being so 


With astronomy is involved the necessary mathematics, which also in their relation to 
music and the arts are of use to him who is to shape the characters and laws of men. 
He who cannot learn these things can never be a ruler, though he may be an assistant. 

In the last two pages of the Laws Plato evades giving a detailed account of the 
curriculum of the higher education thus indicated—perhaps he was weary, perhaps 
he did not care to repeat the Republic.’ In any case, there is no Justification for the 
statement that the Laws ignore the higher education of the rulers or substitute in it 


665 


mathematics and astronomy for dialectic. On the contrary, the unity of Plato’s 


654962 C; cf. Rep., 424C. 661Cf. Pheedr., 265D; and with tavrns ov €or caheorepa 
655062 D. p€0080s, cf. Phileb., 16B; Pheedr., 266 B. 
656 Of, Rep., 563 A, iva dy €AcvOepos 7. 662965 D. Meno, T4A, thy Se piav, dca mavtwy TovTwy 
657 Cf. Phileb., 18 E, mas €orwy év Kai roAAG abray éxarepov, éotiv, ov duvamala avevperv, 
658 964 C; cf. Rep., 366 E, ty abrod Suvamer év ty Tov ExovTos 663 966 B. 
Wux7 ever. 664In Book X. 
659964 E; cf. Tim., 69, 70. 665 967 E. 
660965 A, 666 968 D, 


213 


88 THE Unity oF PLato’s THOUGHT 





thought is strikingly illustrated by his return in the pages Just analyzed to some of 
the favorite ideas of the Republic and earlier dialogues.” 

It is not necessary to prolong this study. The 7imeeus, so far as it affects our 
argument, has already been considered.” The Timceus as a whole I have studied 
elsewhere.” 

The object of this discussion and the expression “unity of Plato’s thought” may 
easily be misunderstood. I may therefore be permitted, in conclusion, to repeat that 
I have not meant to sophisticate away the obvious and inevitable variations in Plato’s 
moods, and minor beliefs from youth to old age. Nor in the study of such develop- 
ment would I reject the aid of a sober and critical method of style statistics.” My 
thesis is simply that Plato on the whole belongs rather to the type of thinkers whose 
philosophy is fixed in early maturity (Schopenhauer, Herbert Spencer), rather than to 
the class of those who receive a new revelation every decade (Schelling). And I have 
tried to show that the method which proceeds on the contrary assumption leads to mis- 
interpretation of his writings. The illustrations given are merely typical. There has 
been no attempt to catalogue exhaustively the opinions of contemporary Platonists. 
The polemic is, I trust, not discourteous, and is, I am sure, not intentionally disloyal. 
In any case, it turns generally on the meaning or relevancy of specific passages and can 
easily be tested. Some excuse for its prominence may be found in Mill’s statement 
that “there are few, if any, ancient authors concerning whose mind and purpose so 
many demonstrably false opinions are current, as concerning Plato.” 


667GOMPERZ supports his view of the anti-dialectical © Gomperz thinks late, dialectic is still the highest science 


tendency of Plato’s mind in the Laws by the hostility of 
the Sophist to every kind of antilogy. But surely eristic is 
one thing and dialectic another. The true Socratic elen- 
chus is described and the difficulty of distinguishing it 
from eristic indicated in a locus classicus in the Sophist 
(230 B ff.); and both the Sophist and the Politicus employ 
the keenest dialectic in order to meet and defeat eristic on 


of truth (Phileb., 58). But Plato had other interests than 
dialectic, and it is unreasonable to expect him to fill the 
Laws and Timeus with repetitions of what had been said 
once for all in the Sophist, Politicus, and Philebus. 
668 Supra, p. 37. 669 4, J. P., Vol. IX, pp. 395 ff 
670 As, e. g., that of RrrrEerR, “Die Sprachstatistik in 
Anwendung auf Platon und Goethe,’’ Neue Jahrbiicher 


its own ground (Soph., 259C D). 


"Avanvnots, 32, 43, 44,19, n. 109. 

eines HeETpor, 67. 

Cardinal virtues, 12. 

Charmides, 15. 

Copula, ambiguity of, 54. 

Courage, 11, 15, n. =e 

Cratylus, 75 ff., 54, § 

Definition, 13, 16, 66. n. 86; 
by dichotomy, 50 ff. 

Dialectic, 74, 86 ah negative 
goes too far, 17 

Dichotomy, 50 ff. 

Eristic, 13, 14, 19 n. 108, 50, 77, 
n. 667. 

Ethics, 9 ff. 

BKuthydemus, 76 tf., 54 

Kuthyphro, 12, 31. 

Fallacies of Plato, inten- 
tional, 4, 6, 20, 23 n. 137, 54, 
57 n. 426, n. 32, n. 42, n. 70, 
n. 106, n. 528, n. 548. 

EF iom of the will, 9. 

Generalizations, n. 500, 

Good, idea of, 16 ff., 74. 

Gorgias, 22, 31,32, 25 n. 167, 





In the Philebus, which 


etc., 1903. 


{NDEX 


Government, forms of, 62. 

Happiness and virtue, 25 ff. 

Hedonism, 20. 

Hedonistic calculus, 23 

Heraclitus, 28, 68. 

Hippias Minor, 10 n. 38. 

Ideas, theory of, 27 ff. ; diffi- 
culties of, 36, 52, ve not 
concepts merely, 9, 30, 38, 
39; not thoughts of God, 
30, 38, 65, n. 512; origin of, 
32; in “late” dialogues, 
37 ff.; and numbers, 82 ff. 

Isocrates, 71, 72, 77. 

Laches, 15, n. 603. 

Laws, 85 

Lie, voluntary and involun- 
tary, 10 n. 3: 

Love (€pws), 13 ff. 

Lysis, 18, 19. 

Mate rialism, 68, 69, n. 283. 

Matter or space, not pn ov, 
88, n. 502, n. 503. 

Meno, 32, 33, 77 

My ov, areal leieyi of, 53 ff. 


Method (xar’ cién, etc.) 51. 
Minor dialogues, dramatic, 


Negative dialectic, goes too 
far, 17 

’Ovonara and pyuata, 56. 

Parmenides, 57 ff., 34, 36, 37. 

Tlavra pet, 68. 

Pheedo, 35, 41, (te 

Pheedrus, 71 ff., 

Philebus, 17 n. 33. VD, 23, 43, 
46, 63 {f. 

Pleasure, 22; negativity of, 
e 24; in mind, not body, 


Posing Plato’s attitude- 
toward, 81 ff. 

Political art, 17, We 

Politicus, 60 ., 

Protagoras, 12° be og. 20, 


Peshology. 40 ff., 66 ff. 
(Thecaetetus). F 

ose terminology, 
‘ . 


214 


Republic, 78 ff., 14, 26, 35 n. 
238, 41, 42, 55, 51, n. 375. 

Socratie ignorance, 6; in 
minor dialogues drama- 
tic, 15. 

Socratic paradoxes, 9. 

ao immortality of, 40 ff., 


Beek tripartite, 42. 

Sophist, 50 ff. 

Sprach-Statistik, 1, 5, 7 n. 
10, 88. 

Svvaircov, n. 461, 

Lwhpoavry, 15. 

Symposium, 19, 77. 

Temperaments, the two, 12 
n. 99, 13 n. 70, 62 n, 481, 

Theeetetus, 66 ff., 33, 55. 

Timeus, 31, 88. 

Utilitarianism, 20 i 

Vice, involuntary, 9 

Virtue, is knowledge, 10; 
unity of, 10; coincides 
with happiness, 25 


THE TOLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA 
OF TACITUS 





t 
rf 


THE TOLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACTI- 
TUS, WITH NOTES ON A PLINY MANUSCRIPT 


Frank Frost Apsorr 


I 
DESCRIPTION OF THE CODEX TOLETANUS 


THE manuscript of which the Germania forms a part, 49.2 of the Zelada collec- 
tion, contains 223 folios, with 30, occasionally 29, lines to the page. The page is 
23.1em. x 14.5¢m., and the written portion 17.2cm. x 8.3cm. It is divided as fol- 
lows: Cor. Taciti De Vita Moribus Et Origine Germanorum Opus Elegantissimum, 
folio Lr. to the middle of 15 v.; Opus Hiusdem De Vita Et Mori’ L. Agricole, 16x. 
to bottom of 86y.; Lo. Antonii Campani Oratoris Atque Poetae Celeberrimi Oratio 
De Laudibus Scientiarum, 37 xr. to 63v.; fragment of an oration, 641. to the middle 
of 66r.; a number of Pliny’s Letlers 66r. to 221 v.; fragment of an oration, 222r. 
to 223 v. 

On folio 15v., at the end of the Germania, after relinquam there is written 
ico TEAS and just below, the subscription FV LGINIE SCRIPTVM GERENTE ME 
MAGISTRATVM PV -SCRIBE: KAL! -IVN: 1474. The Agricola has at the end 
the word FINIS only. On folio 63 y. following the oration of Antonius stands the 
title of his oration, followed by these words: Scripta p me M. Angim Crullum Tuder- 
tem fulginii pu. Scribam Non Decembr McecceLxxiiii Deo Laus & honos. The selec- 
tions from Pliny’s Letters* have, on folio 221 v. and 222r., the subscription Caii 
Plinii oratoris atq Phylosaphi Dissertissimi epistolarum liber octavus et ultimus 
explicit foeliciter deo gris Fims Perusie in domo Crispoli**? 1468 AMHN Tedoo M. 
Angelus Tuders. Incidentally it may be noticed that the scribe’s name is Crullus, 
not Trullus as Leuze surmised from Wiinsch’s report in the Classical Review, 1899, 
p. 274, and that his patronymic in the subscription, both on folio 63 and 221, is given 


1Jn the spring of 1899 I planned to visit Toledo for the 
purpose of collating the Tacitus MS. in the possession of 
the cathedral library of that city. Reference was made to 
this plan in the Classical Review of the preceding year 
(Vol. XII, p. 465). The necessity of finishing another piece 
of work upon which I was engaged forced me, however, to 
give up the project for a time, and I was unable to carry it 
out until last spring. In the interval Dr. Leuze, of 
Tabingen, made an admirable collation of the Agricola 
portion of the MS., and published the results of his exami- 
nation of it in the eighth Supplementband of Philologus. 
In this paper, therefore, I shall confine myself to the Ger- 
mania, which is contained in the same codex, and which 
Dr. Leuze did not have time to collate. In his article (p. 
517) Dr. Leuze expressed the fear that his collation might 
not be accurate at all points, because he was obliged to 
make it in a very short time, but my comparison of it with 


21 


the codex itself convinced me that it was thoroughly trust- 
worthy. I take this opportunity to express my sincere 
thanks to Monsignor Merry del Val, the archbishop of 
Nicwa, whose enlightened interest in classical study is well 
known. Through his friendly intercession in my behalf I 
received permission to make a complete copy of the Ger- 
mania text, although such permission had never been 
granted before, I believe, in the Toledo library. I am in- 
debted also to Dr. Leuze and to Dr. Wiinsch, who first 
made the existence of the Toledo MS. known to students 
by his note in Hermes, Vol. XXXII, p. 59, for the helpful 
suggestions which they gave to me by letter before I went 
to Toledo. 

2A description of this part of the MS., with a coMation 
of a few of the letters contained in it, is published in this 
paper on pp. 43, 44. 


‘ 


4 Tur ToLepO MANUSORIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





as Tuders, not Tudertinus as Wiinsch reports. A more important correction of 
Wiinsch’s reading® consists in the fact that at the end of Antonius’s oration the date 
is clearly 1474 and not 1471. From the dates previously reported Leuze inferred 
that the Agricola was written between December 5, 1471, and June 1, 1474. This 
supposition involved a serious difficulty, because, as will be noticed, the oration of 
Antonius, which follows the Germania, seemed to bear the earlier date, 1471. Since, 
however, the actual reading in both cases is 1474 the difficulty disappears, and further- 
more we can say with considerable confidence that the Agricola, which stands between 
the Germania and the oration of Antonius, was written between June 1 and December 
5, 1474. The date, 1468, given at the end of Pliny’s Letters, is a little surprising, 
but it is written in brown ink, while the rest of the subscription is in bright red ink, 
and may be an incorrect date inserted later. This supposition is in a slight degree 
confirmed by the fact that the subscription is arranged in lines of approximately equal 
length, except that in the line where 1468 is written this number stands to the right 
of the perpendicular, to the left of which the other lines of the subscription fall, but I 
am not inclined to lay much stress on this last consideration. Since Angelus makes 
no mention of his title of public scribe in this connection, and since Pliny’s Letters 
were copied at Perusia, it may perhaps be assumed with safety that the Pliny MS. was 
not copied in 1474. That Angelus copied the Agricola as well as the Germania is not 
only clear from the close resemblance which the handwriting in the one document 
bears to that of the other, but is proved beyond a doubt by examining his method of 
forming certain combinations of letters. To take one illustration only: fama so 
closely resembles forma in Agr. 10, 12 that Dr. Leuze was in doubt (p. 545) which of 
the two words was intended. The same word, fama, is written in the same peculiar 
way in Germ. 34, 9 and 35, 16 (Millenhoff’s ed.). The signs for abbreviations, the 
method of making corrections, and the orthography in the two texts are also similar, 
although perhaps one ought not to lay much stress on the resemblance last mentioned. 

The MS. of the Germania, like that of the Agricola, has a great many variants. 
These are without exception written on the margin in the hand and ink used in the 
body of the text. “Someone has also added on the margin here and there in bright red 
ink the nominative form of certain proper names occurring in the text. Thus on folio 
lr. opposite 2, 8 (ed. Mall.) stands Germania, opposite 2, 12 (ibid.) Tuisco deus, 
opposite 2, 13 (ibid.) Mannus. These additions are of no importance in discussing 
the MS., and may, therefore, be left entirely out of consideration. 

Corrections of a single letter or syllable are made above the line. In two cases 
only, where it is necessary to insert one or more words (13, 4 and 13, 18), the words 
to be added are written on the margin. The corrections are made in ink of three 
different colors—a dark brownish green (that of the text itself), a reddish brown, and a 
bright red. It may be stated with confidence that those in green ink are made by the 


3 The errors in Dr. Wansch’s description of the MS. result of course solely from the fact that, as he wrote to Dr. 
Leuze, he was allowed to note Aeusserlichkeiten only. 


218 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 5 





scribe himself from the copy which he is following. One cannot speak with the same 
certainty of the other two classes of corrections, but I am strongly inclined to think 
that those in reddish-brown ink are in the hand of the original copyist. The third 
corrector, he of the bright red ink, is evidently the scribe who wrote the proper names 
on the margin to which reference has been made above. The ink is the same as that 
used in the titles and the paragraph marks. This fact makes it reasonably sure that 
this third class of corrections may be attributed either to the original copyist or to one 
of his fellows. His corrections are so slight as to afford us little basis for a comparison 
of his hand with that of the text. The style which he has used in his notes on the 
side of the page differs from the writing of the original copyist, but probably the dif- 
ference is no greater than would naturally exist between the formal and the free hand 
of the same scribe. We may assume, therefore, with great probability that all three 
classes of corrections are to be traced to the original copyist. It does not follow, how- 
ever, that they come from the same source. Those in green ink were undoubtedly made 
by the copyist as he proceeded with his work. As has been remarked already, they 
were corrections of errors which he made in following his copy. Those in reddish- 
brown and in bright red ink must have been added somewhat later. That a con- 
siderable interval of time elapsed between the copying of the text and the insertion of 
these two classes of corrections seems rather probable from the fact that these two inks 
are used in correcting the Agricola also. The reddish-brown ink is used, for instance, 
in Agr. 43, 7 (ed. Halm),‘ and the bright red ink in 3, 6; 29, 9; 31, 2; 31, 19; 33, 6, 
and 46, 1 (see Leuze, pp. 543-54). It is clear that these changes were made some time 
after the entire MS. had been finished, and for this second and third correction of the 
text a MS. other than the archetype of T, or even two such MSS., may have been used. 
The bearing of these corrections upon the text of the MS. from which T was copied can 
be ascertained only by discovering their source, and this can be done better when we 
come to discuss the readings in T.’ 


II 
T AND THE BC CLASSES OF MANUSCRIPTS * 
COLLATION OF TBbCc WITH MULLENHOFF’S EDITION’ 


Cor. Taciti De Vita Moribus Et Origine Germanorum Opus Elegantissimum 
Feliciter Incipit T 


4At 43, 7 ausim was omitted by the original copyist, 
and added on the margin in brownish-red ink by the 
corrector. 

5 This point has a like importance for the Agricola, 


6 Mallenhoff’s nomenclature for the MSS. is followed, 
and in this table the readings of BbC andc, which make 
up the BC classes, are given, because the fundamental 
point in connection with any new Germania MS. must be 
to determine its relation to these four MSS. 


7The readings of b and c have been taken from the 
critical apparatus in Millenhoff’s edition. The readings 


of B (Vat. 1862) and C (Vat. 1518) are from my own collation 
of those MSS., and a list of corrections te be made in Mal- 
lenhoff’s critical apparatus may be found on pp. 42, 43, The 
hand of the first corrector is indicated by T!, that of the 
second by T4, that of the third by T2. At the points 
marked in this table with a star Millenhoff, in the Deutsche 
Altertumskunde, Vol. IV (Berlin, 1900), expresses a prefer- 
ence for the readings which T (with certain other MSS.) 
gives. It has seemed best, however, for convenience in 
reference, to print in the first column the readings of Mal- 
lenhoff’s text, even where that editor on maturer consider- 
ation has expressed a preference for another reading. 


219 


6 


Tue ToLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





Cornelii Taciti De Origine Et Situ Germanorum Liber Incipit B 

Cornelii- Taciti. De Origine - Situ: Moribus - Ac Populis - Germanorum Liber - 
Incipit: ob 
C - Cornelii Taciti de origine et situ germanorum C 

C - Cornelii Taciti De Origine Et Situ Germanie Liber Incipit ¢ 


Editio Muellenhoffii 


cS oO 


10 


11 


25 


§ Gentis verbum (2, 


Germania 
Raetisque 
Danuvio 
cetera 


Oceanus 
Raeticarum 


septentrionali 
Danuyius 


Abnobae 


septimum 


Tuistonem 


conditoresque 
Ingaeyones 
Herminones 
ceteri 
Istaeyones 
deo 
plurisque 
Suebos 
Germaniae 
Rhenum 
omnes 
victore 
etiam 


TBbCe 


ermania omissa G quae minio pingi debebat T 
Rhaetiisq, T, Retiisque B, rhetiisque b, retiisque Cc 
Danubio T, danubio Bbe 

cetera T, coetera et similiter saepius vel ceterab, cetera 
vel caetera Ce ubique 

occeanus TC ubique 

rveticay T, rheticarum b, reticarum C, raeticarum c, 
Reticarum B 

septemtrionali T 

Dannubius T, danubius Bb, Danuuius C, danuuius in 
danubius corr. c* 

Arnobe (af Arbone al none in margine) T, Arnobe 
(Arbonae in marg.) B, arbone b, arbone C, arnobae 
m arbonae corr. ¢ 

septimug *‘* (septimus i septimum correxit cl -N - 
supra addidit T*) T 


Tuisconé T, Tuistoné C, Tristonée et in marg. Tuisman 
B, tristoné b, tui supra tri 8, Bistonem c 

conditorisq, T, conditorisque Bbc, conditoris C 

Ingeuones T Bb C, ingeuones 8, ingaeuones c 

hermifones (n supra addidit T*) T, Hermiones BbC, 
hermi?ones 8, herminones c 

ceteri T 

Isteuones TC 

deos T 

pluésq T, pluresque BbCe 

Sueuos TBbCe 

germanie T 

rhenium (i puncto delevit T') T 

oms T 

victor” T (cf. arar~ 14, 17) 


om. Tc, etiam Bb, & C 


i1ed. M.) fol. 1r claudit. 


220 


H bo 


i | 


=] +] ol 


20 
21 


FraNK Frost ABBorT 





proelia 
barditum 


futuraeque 
pugnae 
vocis 
videtur 
Ulixen 


Germaniae 
incolitur 


nominatumque .. . 


. aram 
Laertae 


monumentaque 


Graecis 
Germaniae 
Raetiaeque 


quae 


Germaniae 
conubiis 
caerulei 


rutilae 
valida 
tolerare 
assuerunt * 


specie 
foeda 
eaeque 
gratissimae 
Germaniae 
haud 


commerciorum 
nostrae pecuniae 
quoque magis quam 


affectione 


prelia T, plia b, plia C, praelia ¢ 

Barditum et in marg. Bariti T, baritum supra bardi- 
tum ¢* 

futureq T corr. in futureq, T’ 

pugne T corr. in pugne T’ 

voces TBbCe 

videntur TBbCe 

ulixem T, ulixen Cc, Ulyxen B, Ulyssem (ss in 
litura) b 

germanie 'T corr. in germanie T’ 

colit~T corr. in icolit~T* 

nominatumg ACKITTVPPION aram TB Ce, nominatum- 
que aram (in marg. deest B)b 

Laerte T 

monimentaq TC 

grecis T 

germanie T 

rhetieq, T, rhetiaeque b, Retieque B, retiaeque c, 
retieq; C 

que T 


germanie T corr. in germanie T’ 

conubiis T Bb Ce 

cerulei Tc, cerulei C, ceruli b, ceruli (f lei supra 
versum) B 

rutile T 

vallida (nv valida correxit T') T 

tollerare T C E 

assueverut T Cc, assuerunt (I int supra versum) B 


sperth (spem corr. in spei? T') T, spe C, spetie c 
feda T Bb 

eeq, Tb, Eeque B, eatq; C, eatque ¢ 

gratissime T 

gemanie T 

aut TC 

comertioy T, commertiorum Ce 

nre pecunie T 

magisq T 

affectatione T Bb, affectione Ce 


9Confirmare verbum (38, 19 ed. M.) fol. 1v claudit. 


221 


oO 


9 


10 Quidem verbum (6, 1 ed. M.) fol. 2r claudit. 


THE TOLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





ne ferrum quidem 
comminus 
distinguunt 

galea 

variare 

aestimanti 
proeliantur 
peditum 

proeliis 
superstites 


ne verberare 
poenam 
jussu 

velut 
effigiesque 
detracta 
fortuita 

illae 

et * 


comminus 
nubiles 
consilia 
neglegunt 
Albrunam 


tamquam 


litare 
Martem et Herculem 


Sueborum 
liburnae 
speciem 
assimulare 
caelestium 


ne ferrum (q addidit T*) T 

cominus Tb 

distingut T BbCe 

galee TBbCe 

uarietate Tb, variare BCe 

extimanti T, estimati B, estimati b, existimanti Ce 
preliantur T 

peditum (e supra addidit T') T 

preliis T 

supstes T 


neq verberare T 

penam TB 

iuxu T 

velud T, veluti C 

Effigies T 

de tracta T 

fortuna T corr. in fortuita T! 
ille TC 

aut TBb, et Ce 


comin? TCb 

nobiles T BCc, nobiles b 

consilio T 

negligat Tb Cc, neglegunt B 

Aurinia (Albrunam sive Albriniam in marg.) T, auri- 
niam BbC, fluriniam ¢c, sed B in margine Albriniam, 
bt Albriniam, ¢ ab altera manu albriniam supra 
adscriptum habent. 

tang” T Be 


litare T 

Herculem & martem T, herculem ac martem Ce, et 
herculem post placant Bb 

suevoy TC eb, Suenorum B 

liburne T 

spem TC, specie B, spetiem c 

assimilare T 

celestium T 


12 Modum verbum (9, 6 ed. M.) fol. 3r claudit. 


11 Non verbum (7,7 ed. M.) fol, 2v claudit. 


222 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 





10, 5 


24 


bo 


5 
i, 2 
4 
5 


13, 


16 
18 


13 Committunt verbum (10, 25 ed. M.) fol. 3v claudit. 


fortuito 
eundem 
interrogare 
praesagia 
exploratur* 
popularium 
praeiudicio 
omnes 
incidit 
incohatur 
nec ut iussi 
coeuntium 
absumitur 
turba* 
tum 

aetas 
distinctio 
flagitia 
abscondi 
poena 
mulctae 
conciliis 

ex plebe 
assunt 


publicae 
privatae 
tum in 


vel pater vel 
propinqui 
publicae 
adolescentulis 
etiam 
aemulatio 
haec 
hae 
semper 
circumdari 
cuique 


fortuitu T 

eumdem T 

interogare 'T 

presagia T 

explorant T Cc, exploratur B, corr. ex exploratur b 
depopularium T ee 

preiuditio T, preiuditio C, iudicio B 

omes T 

inciderit T 

inchoatur T b C, incohatur Be 

ne iniussi T 

cetuum T 

assumit~ T 

turbe T B, turbe b Ce 

tamen (tantu3 in marg.) T, tum c, cum C, tamen Bb 
etas T 


Distintio T 

flagia T, flagitia C, flagicia B, supplicia b 
ascondi T 

penay T B, poenarum b Ce 

mulcte T 

comitiis T 

explebes T corr. in explebe T 


adsut TBC 


Pubic pl mMceNC 
private T 


Tum in T (Tum in Cum correxit ef Eum supra 


addidit T*), tum in Ce et supra cum c’, cum in Bb 
ul ipsi ul propinqui (ipsi punctis delevit et in margine 


vel pt addidit T*) T 
pubes. 
adolescentibus T 
et & T 
emulatio T 
hee TB 
he TB 
semp & T 
circundari T 
om. T sed in margine scripsit T? 


14 Comites ver bum (12, 13 ed. M.) fol. 4r claudit. 


223 








10 THe Totepo MANUSORIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 
14, 2 vinci viam T corr. in vinci T* 
2  virtutem principis virtute principe T 
2 adaequare adequare T, equare Ce 
3 ac om. T sed in marg. scripsit T# 
3 probrosum probosum T 
6 praecipuum precipuum T 
8  otio ocio T Bb 
9 adolescentium adolescentu T 
11 ancipitia ancipiatia T corr. in ancipitia T’ 
13 tuentur tuere T sed a supra addidit T*, tuent> B, tuétur b, 
tueare Cc et reliqui omnes 
14 illam illamq T 
17 arare arar T, ar’are (=arrare) C 
18 exspectare expectare T BCe 
20 et om. 'T sed in marg. & addidit T* 
20 adquirere acquirere T BCc 
15, 2 otium ocium T Bb 
5 feminis feminis T 
16, 1  populis pplos T corr. in pplis T* 
2 ne pati nepati T 
4 locant locant (in marg. Longant) T, longant (super 
lineam tf locant) B, looant sed supra et infra secun- 
dam o litura, ut fuisse videatur logant (teste Muel- 
lenhoffio) b, in margine Locant 8 
5 conexis connexis T Bb Ce 
5 et om. T sed super versum supplevit T? 
5 cohaerentibus coherentibus T 
6 circumdat circundat T Be 
7 caementorum cementoy T 
9 speciem spetiem Tc, spém C, spetie B 
12 imitetur imitent~ Tc immitet~ C 
12 supterraneos sb?teraneos T, sb?t?aneos C, subterraneos c, supter- 
raneos Bb 
14  hiemis hyemi T BC, hiemi be 
16 aperta aperta T (n super lineam addidit T*) 
16 populatur populatio T 
17 ignorantur ignoranter T 


16 Petunt verbum (14, 9ed. M.) fol. 4v claudit. 


16 Phalerae verbum (15, 18 ed. M.) fol. 5r claudit. 


224 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 








17, 8  locupletissimi Locuplectissimi T 
3 distinguuntur distinguntur T Bbe, dixtigat~ C 
6 neglegenter negligenter T B be, neglegenter corr. ex —at~ C 
7 commercia comertia T, commertia Cc, corr. t in cb 
9 beluarum belluarum T 
10 feminis foeminis T 
11 feminae foemine T 
11 amictibus admictibus T 
18, 3. singulis singlis T 
10. in im T corr. in in T! 
10 haec hec TB 
12 haec hec T 
16 periculorumque periculoy T 
19 denuntiant renuptiant (?) T, denaciant B 
19 vivendum uiuentes T 
19 pereundum parientes T, pariendum Be, pereundum b, piédum C 
21 rursusque rursus que T, rursus quae c, rursusq C 
1 saepta septa T, septa cum litura supra lineam b, scepta C 
3 feminae femine T 
5  praesens presens T 
9 aetate etate T 
9 invenerit invenit (= invenerit ) T, invenit Ce 
11 saeculum seculum T 
16 tamquam tang TB 
17 finire finere T corr. in finire T! 
17 quemquam queng T Be, quéq; C 
ac atq T 
2 quemque qnq T, quenque ¢ 
3 aut ac T Ce, aut Bb 
5 deliciis delitiis TCe 
5 dignoscas dinoscas T BC 
7 inexhausta in exaucta T 
14 tamquam tang T 
14 animum in aum TBbCce 
16 si sed T corr. in si T” 
17 Pellibusque verbum (17, 9 ed. M.) fol. 5v claudit. 19 Animum verbum (20, 14ed. M.) fol. 6v claudit. 


18 Litterarum verbum (19,3 ed. M.) fol. ér claudit. 


= 


coos WW Fe 


e 
bo 


14 


20 Capiunt verbum (22, 8 ed. M.) fol. 7r claudit. 


Tue ToLtepo MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 


quo* 


gratiosior 


implacabiles 
quemcumque 
hospitis 
vinclum 
comitas 


e somno 
saepius 
hiems 
vinolentos 
conviciis 
caede 
asciscendis 
tamquam 
nec 


indulseris 


coetu 

nudi iuvenes 
quaestum 
voluntariam 
condicionis 
commercia 
exolvant 


discriptis* 
et 

officia 
verberare 
vinculis 
est 
dumtaxat 
iis 


fenus 
in vices 





tanto TBC, propiqores quoyC, quo ¢ et in litura 
B, quanto Muellenhoffius, D. A., p. 325 

gratiosior (gratior in marg.) T, gratiosior (I gratior 
supra) Bc? 


implacabiles T, iplicabiles C 
quencung T B 

hospititis T corr. in hospitis T’ 
Victus TBbCe 

comis T Bb Ce 


*N-somno T, e somno Cc, enim somno Bb 
sepius T 

hyemis T, hyems BC 

vinulentos T, vi nulétos C 

conuitiis T BCec 

cede T 

adsciscendis T BC 

tang TB 

aut T 


in dulseris T 


cetu TC, cetu B 

Nudi iuuenes Nudi iuuenes T 
questum Tb Cc 

voluptariam T 

conditionis T BCe 

comertia T, comertia Cc, comercia 8 
exolvat (=exolvant?) T 


descriptis T libri 

ut T Bb, et Cc 8 

offitia T Ce 

Verberant T 

vingeulis T corr. in vinculis T" 
om. T 

duntaxat T 


his T 
Foenus Tb Ce 


inuices™ T, in uices B, inuicé b, uices C, uices c 


22 Dignationem verbum (26, 4ed. M.) fol. Sr claudit. 


21 Inter verbum (24, 2 ed, M,) fol. 7 claudit. 


226 


FraNK Frost Apport 13 





praebent 


labore 


et 
terrae 
species 
hiems 
aestas 


odoribus 

equus 

adicitur 

caespes 

feminis 

haee 

commune 
origine 
commigrayerint 


auctor 
Boii 
Boihaemi 


ab Osis 

Nervii 
tamquam 

ne Ubii 
libentius 
Agrippinenses 
origine 
collocati 


Batavi 
Chattorum 
quondam 
populus 
antiquae 
collationibus 





prestant (in marg. prebent) T, prestant (I prebent swpra) 
B, praebent c, pbet b, pstat C 

laborare (in marg. labore) T, labore (in marg. t labo- 
rare) B, laborare (I labor~ supra) b, labore Cc (t rare 

supra scripsit c”*) 

ut TBbe, et CB 

terre T 

speties Tc, speés BC 

Hyems T BC ce? 

estas T 


coloribus T 

equis T, equs c, eq? C 

adiicitur T Bb, adjicitur c, adicitur C 
cespes T bCe 

Foeminis T 

Hee T 

comue T, comuni C 

orrigine T 

comigrayint T 


auctoy T, auctoru Cc, autor Bb 

Boi T 4 
boihemi T, Boihemi (f Boijemioné in marg.) B, boiemi 
b, boiemi C, bohemi post nomen c 

abois T, a boiis Bb Ce, osis in marg. 8 

Neruli TB Ce, neruli b 

tang TB 

Nubii TBCe, nubii b, ubij margo B 

Ibentius T corr. in libentius T* 

Aggripinéses T : 

orrigine T 

collati T, conlocati B 


Batauii T B Ce, batdui b 

Cathoy T, cattorum b, cattorum B, chattorum Ce 

condam T 

populis TCe 

ante T 

collationibus (in marg. collocationiy) T, collocationi- 
bus B et supra collationibus c* 


23 Utraque verbum (28, 8ed. M.) fol. 8v claudit. 


227 


THe ToLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





inchoant TC, incohant ¢, 1 cohat B, inchoat b, inchoat 


upra a posita esse videtur T?* 
in similes T° 


danubiumque Bbc, danuuiumque C 


, chatti Be 


b, chattos Bc, cactos C 


occioes (in marg. occasiones) T 


mane B, romane b, ratione c 8, ratione 


Muellenhoffius, D. A., p. 411 


impedite T corr. in in pedite T’ 


b 


a lo 
raro T, raro bC, rara B, rara c 


5 o ~ Ta 5 . S 
pretia+ nascendi T, noscendi B, nascendi c, noscendi b C 


b, cattos C 


adquenqg T, ad quenque be 
conteptores 'T’, contentores C 


b 


14 
29, 8  proeliorum prelioy T 
14 cetera cetera T sed is 
14 similes si miles T corr. 
14 Batavis Bactauis T 
18 Danuviumque Dannubium,, T, 
19 decumates Decumathes T Be 
20 dubiae dubie T 
22. praesidiis presidiis T 
22 pars par T 
22 provinciae prouincie T 
30, 1 Chatti cati T, catti bC 
2 incohant 
et post t litura B 
4 Chattos cathos T, cattos 
6 artus arctus T, are? Ce 
8  sollertiae solertie T Ce b 
8 praeponere preponere T 
8 praepositos prepositos T 
9 intellegere intelligere T Bb Ce 
9  occasiones 
12 Romanae roe T, roe ©, ro 
12  disciplinae discipline T 
14 in pedite 
16 Chattos cathos T, cattos 
Bul, IL TRS) 
2 Chattos cathos T, cattos 
2 consensum conventum T 
7 pretia nascendi 
7 rettulisse retulisse T libri 
11 caede cede T, cede B 
11 Chattorum cathoy T, cattorum b 
14 haee hee T 
17 ad quemque 
18 contemptores 
18 durae dure T 
32, 1 Chattis cathis T, cattis 


74 Magnitudo verbum (29, 11 ed. M.) fol. 9r claudit. 


998 


vara 


2 Pugna verbum (80, 17 ed. M.) fol. 9v claudit, 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 


15 








CSA ES 


34, 1 


c 00 CO 1 OD OD CO SP DO 


a 
S 


10 


26 Equitum verbum (32, 5 ed. M.) fol. 10r claudit, 


solitum 


praecellunt 
Chattos 
infantium 
haec 

natu 


praedae 
proelii 
invidere 
quaeso 
urgentibus 


Dulgubnii 


Chasuarii 
Frisiis 
praetexuntur 
immensos 
insuper 
classibus 

illa 
temptavimus* 
volgavit 
quidquid 


magnificum 


consensimus 
Druso 
temptavit* 


in septentrionem 
ac primo 
incipiat 

Frisiis 

litoris 
optenditur 

in Chattos 


precellunt T 


Cathos T, cattos b 


infanctium T (corr. in infantium T’) 


hee T 


natui T (corr. in natu T’) 


prede 
prelii T 
om. T 
queso T 


urgentibus iam T B b, i urgentib C, in urgentibus ¢ ef 


supra t igentib? c? 
Dulgicubuni (dulgibnii margo) 


At, 


dulgitubini b, 


Dulgibini (et supra t dulgitubini) B, dulgibini Ce 


et supra duleubuni c’ 


Thasuarii T B, tasuarii b, occasuarii C, chasudrii ¢ 
frisis T Be et in marg. B, friscis C, frisiis b 


pretexuntur T 
in mensos T 
in super T 
claxibus T 


illa (illis margo) T 
tentauimus TC c, tétauimus Bb 
uulgauit Tb, uolgauit BC, uoligauit ¢ 


quicd T libri 


magnum T, magnu; B, magnificum Cc et in litura B, 


magn in margine B 
consensimus (cdsuevim” margo) T 
Durso T corr. in Druso T’ 


tentauit T Be, tétauit b, temptauit C 


Inseptemtrioné T 


A primo T corr in Ac primo T’ 


incipiant T 
Frisis T Bb Ce 
littoris T 


obtendit~ T B, optenditur b, obtendere Ce 


in chatos T, incattos b, incaptos C 


229 


27 Quicquid verbum (34, 10 ed. M.) fol. 10v claudit. 


THE ToLepO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 


6 sinuetur sinuet~ (sinat~ margo) T, sinatur Cc, sinuetur B b 
6 immensum in mensum T 
7 et implent implet~ T, etimplent B et implet C 
13 iniurias Iniuriam T 
36, 1 Chattorumque cathoyq T, cattorumque b 
2 ac &*¢ (ac supra lineam scripto) T 
2 inlacessiti illacessiti T 
4 inpotentes potentis T, inpotentes b Cc, i potentis B 
5 nomina nomine TBbCe 
7 Chattis Chattis T, cattis b 
8 tracti Tacti T BbC, tracti ¢ 
9 adversarum aduersarum (adusariis margo) T, aduersarum (tf ad- 
uersariis) B b, adu?sarium C 
9 aequo equo T 
9 socii sotii T c, sunt socii C 
10 fuissent fuisse (= fuissent?) T 
1 sinum situm T Bb, sinum Ce 
2 tenent tenent~ T 
3  famae fame T 
4 ambitu ambitum . ambituin B, ambitum Ce 
6 sescentesimum Sexcentesimum T c, sesc—B b, sec— C 
8 Caecilio Cecilio T 
8 ac* &TBhb, ac Ce : 
8 Papirio Sapirio T B, papirio Cc, Sapyrio b 
8  consulibus céss : T, cons b, conss 8, eos C 
9 si om. T 
10 consulatum conuentum T’, con’ B 
11 Germania in Germania T 
14 saepius sepius T 
16 caedem cedem TB 
16 et ipse & ipo & ipe TBbCe 
17. obiecerit obiecerunt T, obicit~ C 
18 et Scauro Seauro T 
19 Caepione Cepione T ore 
19 Gnaeoque Marcog T, Marcoq; (= Marcoquoque vel Marcoque) B, 
“mig (= miquoque) C, M. c, marco q°qg b 
20 populo Romano populi Romani T Bb Ce 
24 Caesaris Cesaris T 
28 Vocantur verbum (86,7 ed. M.) fol. 11r claudit. 29 Ttalia verbum (37, 22 ed, M.) fol. 11v claudit. 


230 


38, 


39, 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 17 





H He DO CO 


t 


minae 
versae 
inde otium 
hibernis 


ac rursus inde pulsi 


proximis 


Suebis 
Chattorum 


Tencterorumve 


optinent 
quamquam 
commune 
sic 
Sueborum 
quod 

saepe 
juventae 
saepe 

in ipso solo 


vertici* 
formae 
innoxia 
comptius 


ornantur* 


Semnones 


stato tempore 
patrum 
sacram 
omnes 


elusdem 


mine T 

om, T 

inde ocium T Bb, in otium C 
hybernis T BC 


ac rursus pulsi inde (nam margo) pximis T, ac rursus 
T na 
pulsi inde proximis B, ac rursus inde pulsi proximis 


b, ac rursus pulsi nam proximis c, ac & expulsi rur- 
sus ide proximis OC 


Suevis T Bb Ce et ubique similiter 
cathoy T 


Tenctetoy ve (Tenctetorum corr. in Tencterorum T') T 
obtin& T C, obtinent ¢ 

qt Bragg: Circ, quam b 

comuni T, comune C 

sicut (Sic margo) T 

servoy T 

quid T 

sepe T 

iuuente T 

sepe T 


in solo (in ipo margo; signo | - ante solo apposito) T, 
1 ipso . 
in solo B, in ipso (solo supra adscripsit 8) b, in ipso 


solo Ce 
vertice T Bb Ce 
forme T 
innoxie T B be, inopie C 
compti ut T B b C, compti et ¢ 


oo 1 ornantur arm 
armantur (Onant~ margo) T, armantur B, ornantur b, 


ornantur Cc, armantur supra © 


1 Sefones m 


Semones (Semnones margo) T, Semones B, senones b, 
semones Cc 

Statuto (Stato tpe margo) T 

patrium T Bb C, patrum f, patruum e 

sacrum T Bb Ce, sacram 8 

oms (nomis ft numis margo) T, omnis Ce, omnes Bb 
sed supra adscripto t nois t numinis B, t nominis c* 

eiusdemg T B 


30 Sanguinis verbum (39, 4ed. M.) fol. 12” claudit. 


231 





18 Tue TOLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 
39, 6 horrenda horrentia T 
13 adicit Adiicit T Bb Ce 
13 Semnonum Semonum (Semnonu3 margo) T, Semont (f sennoni 
supra) B, senonum b, semnonum Cc 
14 habitant* habitant"T Bb Ce 
14 corpore corpore (tempore margo) T, corpore (f tempore supra) 
B, ae b, corpore Cc 
40, 1. nobilitat nobilitas T B b C, nobilitat ¢ 
2 cincti cuncti T 
3 proeliis preliis T 
5 Suardones Suarines (Suardones margo) T, Suarines B b Ce, dones 
supra ines adscripsit 8, suardones cod. Hummel. et 
non nulla alit 
5 Nuithones Nuitones T, Nuithones Be, nuitones C, nurtones b, i 
supra rv B 
7 Nerthum Nertum T, Nerthum c, nethum C, Neitha B, neithum 
b, r supraiB 
10 eo ea TBbCc 
12 intellegit intelligit T Bb Ce 
13 feminis feminis T 
13 laeti Leti T 
14 quaecumque queciq T 
15 sumunt sumunt T, sumut B, sumut C 
16 pax et quies pax © quies (& supra lineam addito T') T 
20 servi Sevi T corr. in Servi T’ 
41, 1 haec hee T 
1 Sueborum verboy TBbCe 
2 Germaniae germanie T corr. in germanie T’ 
2  propior proprior Te, peapice B 
3  Danuvium Danubium Tbe, Danuuium BC 
3 Hermundurorum Hermundoy T 
5 commercium comertium TC, comertii Be 
6 Raetiae Rhetie Tb, Retie B, retie Ce 
7 passim passum T cor. in passim T' 
42, 1 Varisti Narisci T, Naristi Bbc, Narisci in margine 8, maristi C 
2. praecipua precipua T 


31Quies tune tantum verba( 40, 16 ed. M.) fol. 12" claudunt. 


232 


Frank Frost ABpBorr 19 





42, 


44, 


32 Regibus verbum (42, 9 ed. M.) fol. 13" claudit 


OU Ot H 


oo 


ipsa etiam 


Boiis 
Varisti 
Germaniae 
Danuvio 
praecingitur 
manserunt* 
Tudri 
saepius 


Cotini 
claudunt 
Cotinos 
Cotini 
effodiunt 
Suebiam 


Lygiorum 
Helvaeonas 


Nahanarvalos 


apud Nahanarualos 
religionis 


praesidet 
Harii 
truces 
feritati 
sustinente 
Gotones 
regnantur 
adductius 
Lemovii 


ipso * 
Oceano 


et & ipa (& lineola inducta delevit et signa transposi- 
tionis supra etiam et ipsa Cy T’) T, etiam ipsa b 

Bois T BCe, boiis b 

narisci T, Naristi Bbe, 

Germanie T 

danubio Tbe, danuuio B GC 

peragit” T BbCe 

mansere TB, manser™~ 

Trudi T 

sepius T 


maristi C 


b, manserunt Ce 


Gotini TBbCc 

claudiut T 

Gotinos TBbCe 

Gotini T Bb, Cotini Ce 

effodunt T 

sueviam TBbCe 

Legiorum T, Tagiecim B, legiorum b (Ligij in margine 


ue 


8), leugiorum C, legiorum ¢ c’ Af 
heluetonas (halosionas margo) T, Heluetonas B, helue- 
conas b, eluheconas C, Heueconas cc” 


I naharualos 
Nahanarulos (naharualos margo) T, Nahanarualos B, 


naharualos b, nahanarualos C, nachanarualos ¢ 

Apd Naharualos T Bb, nacharualos C ¢ 

religionis (regionis margo) T, religionis Bb, regionis 
Ce 

Presid& T 

alii TBbCe 

trucis TBC, trucis (s puncto deleta) b, trucis ¢ 

feriati T 

Sb°stinete Tc 

Gothones TBb Ce 

regnat T BC, regnant b, 

adductus T, aductius C 

lemonii Tb, u supra n posuit, sed in margine Lemonii 
8, Lemouii BCe 

ipe T B, ipsae b, ipo Ce 

occeanum T, oceanum Bb, no supra adscripsit B, 
occeano Ce 


regnantur ¢ 


33 Tpsaque verbum (43, 25 ed. M.) fol. 13" claudit. 


233 


Tue ToLeEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





20 
44, 1  praeter 
3 utrinque 
4 ministrant 
10 clausa 
12. otiosae 
1 immotum 
4  ortum* 
4 edurat 
4 sidera hebetet 
5 equorum 
6 adicit 
8 Suebici 
8 Aestiorum 
9 adluuntur 
10 Britannicae 
10 propior 
17 =sucinum 
17 glaesum 
18 litore 
18 quae 
19 quaeve 
19 quaesitum 
22 perfertur * 
23 sucum 
24 intellegas 
27 igitur 
28 tura 
29 
30 radiis 
82 litora 
32 exundant 
32 sucini 
33 temptes 
33 taedae 


4 Quod verbum (45, 8 ed. M.) fol. 14” claudit. 


terrisque .... solis 


preter T 

utrimg T, utriq; C 

ministrat~ T Bb Ce 

causa T 

Ociosa T B b, occiosa C, otiosa ¢ 


Imotum T, inmotum C 

ortus TC e, ortum Bb 

edura T corr. in edurat T' 

heb& & (hebet et expunwit et sydera hebet& in margine 
addidit T*) T 

deoy (eox margo) T, deorum Bb Cec, eora cod. Stutt- 
gartiensis, cod. Vindobonensis 

aspicit adiicit (aspicit punctis deleto) T, adiicit Bb Ce 

Seuici (Sueuici margo) T, seuici b, Saeuici BCe, 
supra t sueuici Be *, sueuici et in margine suionici B 

Aestyoy T, Aestiorum BCc, estiorum b, eflu supra 
scripsit et in margine eflui 8 

abluunt~ T B b, alluuntur c¢, adluuntur C 

Britanice T, britanice C 

proprior T 

succinu Tb, sucinum BC ¢ 

glesum TBbCe 

littore TBCe 

que T 

que ue (uo margo) T 

quesitum T 

profertur T, pfertur b 

Suecum Tb Ce, sucum B 

intelligas TBbCc 

ergo T 

thura Tc 

om, T 

radius T BbC, radiis e¢ 

littora omissum scripsit in margine T' 

exsudant Tc, exudant C 

succini T b C, sucini Be 

tentes T, tetes Bb Ce 

tede T, tedae be 


85 Tem. syllaba prima tempestatum verbi (45, 31 ed. M.) 
fol. 14° claudit. 


234 


Frank Frost Apspotr 21 





45,36 Suionibus Si uonibus T corr. in Suionibus T * 
37 differunt differt T, differunt? C 
46 1. hie Suebiae finis Hic Suevie fines T, hic sueuie (Gusts B, enone cick) 
fines B Cc, hi sueuie fines b 
5 torpor tempore torpor (tempore punctis deleto) T 
6 conubiis conubiis T Bbc 
6 mixtis mixtos T Be, mistos b, o puncto delevit et i supra 
adscripsit B 
8 quidquid quicd T Bbe 
11 figunt fingunt T Ce, figunt Bb 
11 pedum peditum Tc, pecudum Bb, corr. in peditum 8 
13 sunt om. T 
14 foeda feda TB 
15 herba erba T 
16 solae Sola T 
16 sagittis sagiptis T 
16 inopia in opia T 
17 idemque Idem T 
19 praedae prede T 
23  inlaborare illaborare T 
25 difficillimam difficilimam T, difficillimam C e, difficilem Bb 
27 Oxionas oxionas (etionas margo) T, Oxionas (letionas supra) B, 


oxionas be, f etionas supra P, exionas C, Etionas 
Muellenhoffius, D. A. p. 517 


28 voltusque uultusq Tb Cc, uoltusque B 
28 corpora & corpora T Ce 
29 ego om. T 


Cornelii Taciti De Origine Et Situ Germanorum Liber Explicit B 

:e9;09;:0c0 Finit b 

finis : OeXo0a C 

co Terxkosec 

:oo TeXoo 

FVLGINIE SCRIPTVM GERENTE ME MAGISTRATVM PV- SCRIBE 
AG) IVN > 1474 7 


Attention has been called already (pp. 4, 5) to the three classes of corrections 
which T shows. TT’ is the scribe himself making corrections from the MS. which he is 
following. The doubt which an examination of the handwriting of T* and T’ and of 
the ink used by them leaves in one’s mind (ef. p. 5) can best be resolved by examin- 


36 Aliud verbum (46, 19 ed. M.) fol. 15” claudit. 


235 


22, THE ToLepDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





ing the corrections made by each of these hands. A conspectus of those made by 
T* is given in the following table, and, to facilitate comparison, the readings of certain 
other MSS. and early editions” are also indicated. 


CORRECTIONS BY SECOND HAND 


Ed. Muell. i Ta 
1,11  septimum septimus septimum enim 
2,16 Herminones hermiones Vat. 2964, NV, R herminones 
3,13  incolitur colitur incolitur 
6, 1 quidem om. quidem 
13, 4 tum in tum in K ann an (cum in Vat. 2964, NV) 
4 pater ipsi Vat. 2964, K, NV pater 
18  cuique om. K, N cuique 
14, 2 vinci viam vinci 
3 ac om. ac 
13 tuentur tuere tueare R (?) (tuear Vat. 2964, 
tueantur K, NV) 
20 et om. et 
16, 1  populis populos populis 
5 et om. K, N et 
16 aperta aperta non aperta 


It is necessary to anticipate a conclusion reached later in this paper (ef. pp. 37 ff.) 
by stating at this point that T is closely related to K (or L), Vat. 2064 (Massmann’s 
Rd), the Nuremberg editions, and the Roman edition of 1474. If, therefore, the cor- 
rections of T* differ from the readings of this group,” it is apparent that he is either 
introducing his own conjectures, or basing his corrections on some other MS. than the 
archetype of T. An examination of the table will show that the state of things just 
supposed is the case at 1,11; 2, 16; 13, 4 (ipsi); 13, 18; and 16, 5. In all these cases 
the first hand in T shows the same errors found in other members of the group, so that 
the corrections of T* give different readings from those of the E MSS. It might be 
assumed that T, although it was related to the MSS. and editions mentioned, belonged 
to a collateral branch into which the errors under discussion had not entered. It is well- 
nigh inconceivable, however, that the first hand in T and the copyist of the archetype 
from which K, Vat. 2964, R and N are descended should have committed the same 
errors at all of these points. The conclusion reached after an examination of these 
readings is confirmed by a glance at the other corrections made by T?. In no case 
does he restore a reading peculiar tothe EMSS. The readings of T? at 3, 13; 6, 1; 14, 2; 


®7K = Kappianus or Longolianus (cf. MASSMANN, p.4); p. 22, and MULLENHOFF, Deutsche Altertumskunde, Vol. 
R=editio Romana (cf. MASSMANN, pp. 25 ff., and Taa- IV, pp. 689 ff. 
MANN. De Taciti Germaniae apparatu critico p, 23) N= 38 From this point on we shall designate this group of 
editio Norimbergensis (cf. MASSMANN, p. 24; TAGMANN, MSS. as the E class, following Millenhoff’s nomenclature. 


236 


FRANK Frost ABBoTT 23 








14, 8; 14, 13; 14, 20, and 16, 1 are found, it is true, in MSS. of the class mentioned, 
but they also all appear in important MSS. entirely independent of that group, 


Special interest attaches to 1, 11; 13, 4 (cum , in); 13, 4 (pater); and 16, 16. In 
13, 4 and 16,16 T, in harmony with the E MSS., had ipsi and aperta, which T* changes 
to pater and non aperta. In 1, 11 septimus, the reading of T is nearer septimum, the 
reading of the E class, than septimum enim is. A similar statement may be made in 
regard to tum in, the reading of T at 13,4. All of the readings of T*, with the excep- 
tion of non aperta, are found in other MSS. That correction may be based on the 
copyist’s conjecture, but the others seem to be clearly taken from some other MS. 

This conclusion does not carry with it the corollary that the reading of T at all 
the points mentioned represents correctly the archetype. On the contrary, wherever 
T coincides with the E MSS. we should adopt its reading, not because it is the read- 
ing of T?, but because evidence from the E group makes it almost certain that the 
archetype of T and the E MSS. had the reading in question at that point. Accord- 
ingly we should accept incolitur, 3, 13; quidem, 6, 1; vinci, 14, 2; ac, 14, 3; tueare, 14, 
13; et, 14, 20, and populis, 16,1. All these are simple errors, in their first stage of 
development, so to speak, and there is no difficulty in believing that they were made by 
the first hand in T, and that consequently they do not represent the readings of the 
archetype of T at these points. On the other hand, to restore the archetype of T, we 
should adopt the reading of T at 1, 11; 2, 16; 13, 4 (tum in); 13, 4 (ipsi); 13, 18; 
16, 5, and 16, 16. 

It may be surmised with some probability that the corrections made by T? were 
taken from Vindobonensis I (Massmann’s W;; cf. p. 21), or from some MS. very closely 
related to it. This seems to be a natural inference from the fact that W has the read- 
ings of T* at all fourteen of the points cited in the table on p. 22, while, if the reports 
of Massmann and Tagmann may be trusted, it is the only MS. which gives all three of 
the characteristic readings, septimum enim os, 1, 11; Herminones, 2, 16; and tum eum, 
13,4. That Toletanus is otherwise independent of W seems clear for two reasons. It 
does not, on the one hand, show the errors peculiar to W (e. g., erumpit, 1, 11; Ara- 
nisci, 28, 11; Germaniae, 28, 17; and Bastranas, 46, 3), while, on the other hand, 
abnormal forms like iuxu, 7, 7, and simple errors peculiar to T, like effigies, 7, 9; con- 
silio, 8, 9; depopularium, 10, 24; and comitiis, 12, 11, are passed over by T* without 
correction. 

The corrections made by T’ are simpler. They are given in the following table. 


CORRECTIONS BY THIRD HAND 


Ed. Muell. AB Ave 
83, 5  futurae future future 
5 pugnae pugne pugne 
12 Germaniae germanie germanie 


237 


24 Tur ToLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TAOITUS 





20,16 si sed Bi 

28,22  libentius lbentius libentius 

29,14 cetera cetera cetera (?) 

14 similes si miles similes 

32, 6 infantium infanctium infantium 
9 natu natui natu 

40,20 servi sevi servi 

41, 2 Germaniae germanie germanie 

45,36 Suionibus Si uonibus Suionibus 


If Gee, 29, 14, be left out of account, in none of these cases is there any reason 
for believing that T° either based his corrections on another MS., or introduced his 
own conjectures. The mark over the final letter in cetera bears some resemblance to 
an i, but it is doubtful if it was intended for that letter. The fact has already been 
noticed (cf. p. 5) that the corrections of T’ were made by the official corrector who 
inserted the titles and paragraph marks, and evidently they represent the correct 
reading of the archetype of T. 

Having reached a conclusion in regard to the corrections in T, we are in a position 
to discuss the relation of T to the other MSS. of the Germania. The errors which T 
shows in common with the leading MSS. BbCce prove that they are all derived from 
the same archetype. The errors common to all five are voces, 3, 7; videntur, 3, 7; 
ACKITIVPIION, 3, 14; connubiis, 4, 2; distingunt, 6, 10; galee, 6, 11; nobiles, 8, 7; 
turbae, 11, 12; poenarum, 12, 8; connexis, 16, 5; in animum, 20, 14; victus, 21, 17; 
comis, 21, 18; descriptis, 25, 1; aboiis, 28, 11; Neruli, 28, 16; Nubii, 28, 21; retulisse, 
31, 7; quicquid, 34, 10; Frisis, 35, 3; nomine, 36, 5; et ipso et ipse, 37, 16; populi 
Romani, 37, 20; vertice, 38, 12; innoxie (inopie C), 38, 13; sacrum, 39, 4; adiicit, 39, 
13; habitantur, 39, 14; ea, 40, 10; verborum, 41, 1; peragitur, 42, 6; Gotini, 43, 1; 
Gotinos, 43, 8; alii, 43, 21; Gothones, 43, 28; ministrantur, 44, 4; otiosa, 44, 12; 
deorum, 45, 5; adiicit, 45, 6; Suevorum, 45, 9; tentes, 45, 33; and fines, 46, 1, leaving 
out of account such deviations from the accepted orthography as Suevi, intelligere, and 
the use of e for ae. TT, therefore, like all the other extant MSS. of the Germania, 
twenty or more in number, is a descendant of the Hersfeld MS., so-called.” This 
MS. was made known to scholars about 1455, and it seems to be proved now beyond 
question that Enoch of Ascoli, who found it in Germany, brought back to Italy the 
MS. itself, and not a copy of it, as had been commonly supposed.“ 


39 Whether this MS. came from Hersfeld, Corvey, or 
elsewhere is not a matter of moment in this connection, 

49This pojnt was happily settled by Sabbadini in the 
Rivista di Filologia, Vol. XXIX (1901), pp. 262-4. Pier Can- 
dido Decembrio was at the papal court, as Sabbadini 
shows, when Enoch of Ascoli returned from Germany and 
thus describes the new MS., in so far as the Germania is 
concerned: ‘‘cornelii taciti liber reperitur Rome yvisus 
1455 de Origine et situ Germanie. Incipit: ‘Germania 


omnis a Gallis retiisque et panoniis Rheno et danubio 
fluminibus a Sarmatis dacisque mutuo metu aut montibus 
seperatur. cetera occeanus ambit.’ Opus est foliorum XII 
in columnellis. Finit: ‘Cetera iam fabulosa helusios et 
oxionas ora hominum yultusque corpora atque artus fe- 
rarum gerere. quod ego ut incompertum in medium relin- 
quam.’ Utitur autem cornelius hoc vocabulo * inscientia’ 
non ‘Inscitia’’’. Our extant MSS, in the passage in ques- 
tion (chap. 16) have inscitia, so that Decembrio seems to be 


238 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 


bo 
OU 





Having established the fact that T is descended from Hersfeldensis, let us 
inquire into the relation which it bears to the other Germania MSS., all of which 
have a like origin. It is now agreed on all sides that the text of the Hersfeld MS. is 
best preserved by MSS. of the two independent classes which Millenhoff has styled 
B and C respectively, one of which classes is represented by Vat. 1562 (B) and 
Leidensis (b), the other by Vat. 1518 (C) and Neapolitanus (c). At more than one 
hundred points these two classes of MSS. offer different readings, and a comparison of 
T with them at these points throws a great deal of light upon the relation which T 
bears to each of them and to the Hersfeld MS. In the table which follows all the 
passages are brought together in which Bb and Ce disagree. A star (*) indicates 
that the reading is adopted by Millenhoff in his edition of the Germania. A dagger 
(+) means that T is in error with Bb; a double dagger ({) that T is in error with Ce. 
In a supplementary table some peculiar cases are given. 


TABLE SHOWING THE READINGS OF T AT POINTS WHERE Bb anp Cc DISAGREE. 


Bb Ce 
2,12 Tristoné (Tuisman marg.) B, tris- Tuisconé T, Tuistone C, Bistonem ec, 
toné b (Tuistonem, ed. Muell.) * 
3,13  hodieque * TBb hodie Ce 
4, 2 populos* TBb populis Cc 
5 qq (al. tang marg.) B, quamquam* tanquam Cc 
Tb 
1 lei 
6 ceruli B, ceruli b cerulei C, cerulei * Tc 
1 int 
10 assuerunt B, assuerunt b assueuerunt ¢ TC 
5, 7 eeque* Tb, eeque B eatque C, eatque ¢ 
8 propitiine * T Bb propitii C ¢ 
I pro 
12 perinde B, perinde * Tb proinde Ce 
21 affectatione + T Bb affectione Ce 
6, 8 imensum Bb i imensum C ¢, in immensum * T 


16" aestimanti Bb, extimanti (=esti-  existimanti Ce 
manti* ?) T 


21 quidem Bb quod * TCe 
Tl PA aan? GMB} 10 ac Ce 
2 etiam Bb eb Cre 

12 aut propinquitates Bb et propinquitates * T Ce 
in error in his comment on this matter; but the important mania bore in the Hersfeld MS. also makes it reasonably 
point in his statement, to which Sabbadini calls attention, sure that the original title was De Origine et Situ Germa- 
is the fact that Enoch’s MS. was written in columns, mnorum. This is the title which appears in MSS. B and C. 
whereas in Decembrio’s time it was the practice to make 41 Upon such forms as extimanti forestimanti cf. GUDE- 


the lines in MSS. run across the entire page. Thisshows yan, ‘‘Bemerkungen zum Codex Toletanus des Agricola,” 
clearly enough that Enoch brought the German MS. itself in the Berliner Philologische Wochenschrift, 1902, col. 796. 
with him and not a copy of it. The title which the Ger- 


239 


THe ToLEDO MANUSORIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





26 
a Oat eee Bib 
8, 3 precum* TBb 
9, 3 et herculem after placant Bb 
10,17 hinnitusque * T Bb 
20 istos Bb 
22  exploratur Bb 
11, 3 pertractentur * T Bb 
13 tamen Bb, tament+ (tantum marg.) T 
12, 1 concilium* TBb 
10 uindicauit Bb 
13, 4 cum Bb 
5 propinqui* T Bb 
13 primus * TBb 
14 principum cui * TBb 
14, 2 adequare * TBb 
6 eius om. b, é B 
13 tuentur Bb 
16, 4 lean B, logant b 
17, 5 ferunt Bb 
18,11 aliquid* TBb 
12 hoc maximum * T Bb 
19, 9 inuenerit * T Bb 
20; 3) ‘aut Bib 
21, 7 aliqua Bb 
22, 1 enimtTBb 
9 sedet* TBb 
14 adhec Bb 
ap J loci 
15 ioci B, ioci b 
24, 3 exercitatio* TBb 
25, 2 ministris Bb 
4 ut+TBb 
6 exequuntur * T Bb 
9-14 liberti.... argumentum misplaced 
Bb 
26, 3 in uices B, inuicem b, inuices™* T 
27, 1 obseruat B, obseruant b 
28, 2 autor Bb 
13 commigrauerint * T Bb 
14 qui B, qb 


240 


et Ce 

preco Ce 

herculem & martem*T, herculem ac 
martem 

hinnitus c, himnitus C 

illos* TCe 

explorant | TCe 

praetractentur C ¢ 

cum C, tum ¢ 

consilium C ¢ 

uindicatur * TCe 

tum * TCe 

propinquus C ¢ 

p” C, primum c 

principium cui Ce 

equare Ce 

eius* TCe 

tueare | TCc 


locant Ce, locant * (longant marg.) T 
gerunt* TCe 

id C,a’ ec 

hec maximum Cc 

inuenit Ce 

aciiy iuCle 

alia* TCe 

eCc 

sed Ce 

adhuc * TCe 


ioci* TCe 

excitatio Ce 

ministeriis * T Ce 

et Ce 

exequantur Cc 

in proper place* T Ce 


uices C, uices ¢ 
obseruatur * T Ce 
auctorum ¢ T Ce 
comigrauerunt Ce 
quia* TCe 


29, 3 
30, 1 
5 
19 
31, 15 
38, 11 
34, 1 
2 
3 
10 
35, 5 
6 
9 
13 
36, 8 
37, 1 
8 
8 
38, 12 
12 
40, 38 
3 
7 
9 
AN 7 
42, 4 
7 
43, 1 
2 
7 
18 
44, 1 
1 
4 
8 
45, 2 
4 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 27 





populus B b 

ulera Bb 

ac Bb 

propior * T Bb 

uultu* T Bb 

nihil* T Bb 

Angriuarios* T B, angrinarios b 

Thasuarii* T B, tasuarii b 

Frisii* T Bb 

magnu; B, magnificum in litura 
(magn marg.) 8, magnum} T 

obtenditur* TB, optenditur b 

nam Bb 

maluit B, malit corr. from malint b 

assequuntur* T Bb 


fusi Bb 

situm* T Bb 

ett TBb 
Sapiriot T B, Sapyrio b 


1 ipso 
in solo B, in ipso (solo written above 


B)b 

religatur* T Bb 

ac* TBb 

Veusdigni B, Veusdigni (R written 
above V 8) b 

Neithum B, neithum (r above i 8) b 

populis* T Bb 

passim* T Bb 

parata Bb 

manseret T Bb 

Buri* T Bb 


Quadorumque* T Bb 
gotinit T Bb 

memorat Bb 

ipse+ T B, ipsae b 
oceanum B b, occeanum+ T 
frontem* T Bb 

non* T Bb 

cludique* T Bb 

ortum B b 


241 


populis { TC ce 

ultra * T Ce 

atque * TCc 

propiora Cc 

cultu Ce 

nil Ce : 
anguiarios C, anguarios ¢ 
occasuarii C, Chasudrii ¢ 
frisi c, frisci C 
magnificum C ¢ 


obtendere Ce 
tam* T Ce 
malit* T Ce 
assequantur Ce 
fosi* T Ce 
sinum Ce 

ac Ce 

papirio Ce 


in ipso solo* T Ce 


ligant Ce 
&Ce 
Reudigni* Tc, Reudigi C 


nerthum Cc, Nertum* T 
propriis Cc 

passim et Ce 

parta* T Ce 

manserunt Cc 


Burii Ce 


qdorumque Ce 
Cotini Ce 
memorant* T Ce 
ipso Ce 

occeano Ce 
fronte Ce 

nec Ce 
claudique Ce 
ortust T Ce 


28 THE ToLepo MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





45, 5 formasque* T Bb formas Ce 
9 abluuntur* T Bb adluuntur C, alluuntur ¢ 
19 gignat* TBb gignit Ce 
28 sudant Bb sudantur*® T Ce 
36 gens Bb gentes* TCe 
37 differunt* B b, differt T differuntur Ce 
46,11 figunt Bb finguntt TCe 
25 difficilem Bb difficillimam Cc, difficilimam* T 
28 corpora Bb et corporat TC c 


SUPPLEMENTARY TABLE 


2,25 etiam Bb & C, om. Te 

3, 9  obiectis T Bb abiectis ¢, dictis C 
30, 6 artus Bb, arctus T arcus Ce 
33,10 urgentibus iam, T Bb in urgentibus Ce 


35, 6 sinuetur Bb, sinuetur (sinatur sinatur Ce 
marg.) T 
37, 19 Marcoquoque or Marcoque B, Mar- miquoque C, Me 


coquoque b, Marcoque T 
Indis Inuminis . 
39, 4 omnes b, omnes’ B, oms (nomis tf omnis Ce 


numis marg.) T 
TI tempore temp 
14 corpore B, corpore b, corpore (tem- corpore Cc 


pore marg.) T 
43,15 naharualos T Bb nacharualos Ce 


Of the 100 cases given in the first table 


T agrees with Bb and gives the correct reading in 47. 
T agrees with Ce and gives the correct reading in 33. 
T agrees with Bb and gives an incorrect reading in 11. 
T agrees with Ce and gives an incorrect reading in 9. 


The true state of affairs and the significance of these figures will be more apparent 
after an analysis of the instances in which TBb and TCe are respectively in error. 
The text upon which the above calculation is based is that of Millenhoff, because Mil- 
lenhoff’s edition of the Germania is the only one which contains a satisfactory critical 
apparatus. During the thirty years, however, which have elapsed since its appearance, 
the reconstruction of the text has made considerable progress, and the present state of 
the investigation is perhaps well represented by Schwyzer’s revision (1902) of the 
Schweizer-Sidler text. Let us compare the readings of his text with the eleven cases 
where TBb are in error, and the nine where TCe are in error, when tested by 
Millenhoff’s text. 


242 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 29 





TBb Schwyzer 
5,21 affectatione affectione 
11,13 tamen Bb, tamen (tantum marg.) T tum 
22, 1 enim e 
25, 4 ut et 
34,10 magnum T, magnu; B, magnificum magnificum 
in litura and magn marg. B 
Br, Gu R et 
8 Sapirio TB, Sapyrio b Papirio 
42, 7 mansere TBb manserunt 
43, 7 Gotini Cotini 
44, 1 ipe TB, ipsae b ipso 
1 occeanum T, oceanum Bb oceano 
Cie Schwyzer 
4,10 assueuerunt adsueuerunt 
10, 22  explorant “ explorant 
14,13  tueare tueare 
20, 3 ac aut 
28, 2 auctorum auctorum 
29, 3 populis populus 
45, 4 ortus ortus 
46,11  fingunt figunt 
28 et corpora corpora 


In only one (37, 8) of the cases of the first group is the reading of T Bb adopted, 
while five readings of TCe are admitted into the text.” In other words, at three 
points only, (viz., 20, 3; 29, 3; and 46, 28) do the MSS. T Cc, as over against Bb, fail 
to preserve the reading of Hersfeldensis, and at least two of these cases may readily 
be accepted as independent errors of the copyists of T and Ce. 

Let us pass to an examination of the supplementary table on p. 28. At 3, 9 
T is correct and in agreement with Bb; c has misread the first letter, and C has made 
a more serious blunder, At 30, 6 perhaps the archetype of all five MSS. had artus. 
Bb neglected the variant, Cc accepted ¢ as a correction, and T thought the letter 
above had been omitted.” At 2,25 Bb read etiam, C &, while T and c¢ have neither 


42 Mallenhoff himself in later years expressed a prefer- 
ence for three of the T Cc readings, viz., assueverunt (4, 10), 
explorant (10, 22), and ortus (45, 4) (cf. Deutsche Altertums- 
kunde, Vol. IV, pp. 147, 232, 505.) He also maintained with 
probability (ibid., p.81) that ‘‘an den beiden letzten Stellen 
(z. e., 28, 2 and 46, 11) stand in Aa (7. e. Hersfeldensis) ohne 
Zweifel aucto% und figunt und in B war durch einen gliick- 
lichen Lesefehler zufallig das richtige getroffen.” At both 
places, therefore, fingunt and auctorum of T Cc representa 
purer tradition than figunt and auctor. At 14,13 he reasoned 
back (pp. 82, 267) to a form tuear, which would naturally 
represent tueare (cf. labor=labore and arar=arare above.) 


At all six of the points under discussion Mallenhoff’s later 
conclusions are represented by Schwyzer’sreadings. Ofthe 
T Bb readings he favored et 37, 8; mansere, 42, 7; and ipse, 
44,1 (cf. D. A., pp. 447, 480, 499). 


43 Of course the reading in the archetype may have been 
t t 
arcus orarcus. The tendency of Cc to accept all letters 


and words written above the line as corrections, however, 
makes the form assumed in the text more probable. The 
genesis of the form in T would be essentially the same in 
any one of the supposed cases. 


243 


30 THe ToLtepo MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 











word. Perhaps the archetype had &, and in writing it C omitted the stroke above the 
symbol, while T and c, independently of one another, overlooked the symbol itself. 
At 33,10 and 43, 15 T is in agreement with Bb, and at 37, 19 that is essentially true, 
although all five MSS. are wrong at these three points. At 35, 6 T has the same 
reading as Bb, but offers as a variant the reading found in Ce. This may very well 
indicate, as I have attempted to show elsewhere, that the archetype of all five MSS. 
had at this point double readings, of which Bb chose one, and Ce the other. T offers 
the same reading in the text as all four of the other MSS. at 39, 4 and 39, 14, but, 
with B, as elsewhere, it has retained the variants of the archetype (cf. p. 36). This 
fact does not, of course, show that T is more closely related to B or to Bb than it is 
to Ce, but only that, like B, it reproduces the archetype in this respect more faithfully 
than the C class does. Of the readings cited in the supplementary table those at 2, 
25; 3,9; 30,6; 35,6; 39, 4, and 39, 14 may properly be left out of account for 
the reasons just given. The common errors of T Bb at“ 33, 10; 37, 19, and 43, 
15 are significant of the fact that T is more closely related to the B class than to the 
C class, but all five of the MSS. are wrong at these three points, and, since at present 
we are considering only those points of difference between the B and C classes where 
the one or the other has the true reading, these three passages must be left out of 
consideration in this connection. This disposes of all the readings cited in the 
supplementary table, and our revised statistics for the passages in which Bb and Ce 
differ are as follows: 

T agrees with Bb and gives the correct reading in 48 cases “ 

T agrees with Cc and gives the correct reading in 39 cases 

T agrees with Bb and gives an incorrect reading in 10 cases 

T agrees with Ce and gives an incorrect reading in 3 cases 

The meaning which these statistics have for the relation of T to Bb and Ce is 

perfectly clear. That T is not a simple copy of any member of the Bb family, extant 
or now lost, is evident from the fact that in forty-two of the one hundred cases 
where Bb and Ce differ it goes with Cc. It cannot be copied from any member of 
the Cc family because in fifty-eight of the one hundred cases of disagreement between 
Bb and Ce it shows a different reading from Ce. It cannot be a copy of a Bb MS. 
with corrections from a Ce MS. for this reason: In one hundred cases Bb and Ce 
differ. In forty-nine of these Bb is in error, and yet in thirty-nine of these instances 
the reading in T is correct, agreeing with Cc. It is inconceivable that a copyist, or 
a scholar of the fifteenth century, should have been able to choose correctly between 
two different readings in 80 per cent. of the cases before him. The case is still 
stronger against the hypothesis that T is a copy of a Ce MS. corrected from Bb. 
That theory would involve the supposition that the copyist made the right choice in 
94 per cent. of the cases involved, because it would make it necessary for us to believe 


44 The errors at two, perhaps at three, of these points 45 Tf we accept Miillenhoff’s later conclusions, the fig- 
go back probably to Hersfeldensis, cf. MULLENHOFF, D. A., ures for T Bb would be 50 and § respectively. 
pp. 62, 425, 448, and TAGMANN, p. 35. 


244 


FrANK Frost Axsppotr 31 





that he had selected the correct reading in forty-eight out of fifty-one instances. 
Hither of these suppositions is of course inconceivable. For similar reasons it is 
impossible to suppose that T is a copy of a MS. compounded of Bb and Ce. 

The evidence which is available to disprove the theory that T is a copy of any 
one of the four extant MSS. of the B class or the C class, viz., B, b, C, or c, is still 
fuller. When compared with B, for instance, T shows the correct reading, not only at 
the thirty-nine points where both B and b are in error, but also in other passages (e.g. 
9,4; 21,14; 33, 3 ; 39, 6, and 45, 22) where T and b are correct, while B gives a 
poor reading. Over against b, T gives a true reading, not only at the thirty-nine 
points just mentioned, but also in a large number of cases where B is correct, and b in 
error (e.g. 7, 11 ; 7, 16 ; 15, 6, and 28, 8). Similar facts could easily be given to 
show that T is independent of C or c. From the negative point of view the evidence 
is still stronger in support of the view that T cannot be a copy of any one of the four 
MSS. mentioned. Taking these MSS. one by one, and leaving mere variations in 
spelling out of account, T shows only two of the errors peculiar to B (viz., at 38, 4 
and 39, 4), two peculiar to b (viz., at 6, 12 and 43, 31), one peculiar to C (viz., at 
5, 12) and two peculiar to ¢ (viz., at 41, 2 and 2, 25). The last one has already been 
discussed (cf. p. 29). At 6, 12 varietate was probably a variant reading in Hers- 
feldensis (cf. Mttu., D. A., p. 65), which T b have received into the text, rejecting the 
other reading variare. At 43, 31 it is very probable that Lemonii, and not Lemovii, 
is the correct reading (ef. ibid., p. 494). The errors peculiar to B which T shows, viz., 
q for q q (38, 4) and eiusdemg for eiusdem (34, 9), like aut for haud (5, 12) which is 
found only in T and ©,“ are of frequent occurrence in all MSS., and do not in any 
way weaken the argument. 

Another set of facts may be mentioned in this connection which not only seem to 
show that T is independent of Bb C and c, but even suggest that in some cases it is 
closer to the Hersfeld MS. than is any one of the others. In fact, in some of the 
instances to be cited, T seems to show us how to account for the different readings in 
Bb and Ce, and helps to explain the errors in individual MSS. of these two classes. 
The cases in point are 19, 9, inuenit T, inuenerit Bb, inuenit Ce; 28, 1, auctoy T, 
auctora Ce, autor Bb; 30, 12 roe TC, romane Bb, ratione c; 34, 1, Dulgicubuni 
(dulgibnii marg.) T, dulgitubini b, Dulgibini (dulgitubini above) B, dulgibini Ce (ef. 
Mill., D. A., p. 80); 39, 4, oms (nomis, numis marg.) T, omnes b, omnes (nois, 
numinis above) B, omnis Cc. The Hersfeld MS. probably had invenit, auctoy, roe, 
and oms, which T has faithfully preserved. In a similar way the copyist of Tat 30, 9 
gives in the text occionés, but writes the word in full on the margin. 

The fact may have been noted that the corrector of b (8) has introduced at 
certain points the readings of Cc, and it may be suspected that T is a copy of b made 
after these corrections were inserted, but a comparison of the readings of 8 with those 


46 Mention should be made of 24, 6 and 45, 22, where T 472, 12 is not cited here because the readings of T and C 
and b of all the MSS. seem to have preserved true read- seem to show merely a difference in spelling. 
ings. Itis hardly probable that they are conjectures. 


245 


32 THe ToLepo MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





of T shows that this view is untenable. In the last ten chapters of the Germania, for 
instance, the following readings disprove this theory : 39, 1, Semones, (Semnones 
marg.) T, Senones 8; 39, 4, sacrum T, sacram f; 43, 12, Legiorum T, ligiorum #; 
44, 1, occeanum T, oceano 8 ; 45, 36, Sitonum T, sithonum b; 46, 6, mixtos T, 
mistis 8; 46, 26, sunt T, om. b £.“° T must, therefore, be regarded as entirely 
independent of B, b, C, and ¢.” 

The figures given on p. 30 show, however, that it is more closely related to Bb 
than to Ce. It agrees with Bb in fifty-eight of the cases under consideration, with 
Cc in forty-two only. It shows the same error as Bb in ten instances, while it fol- 
lows Cc into error in three cases only, and all three may be considered independent 
errors of the copyist of T and Ce. 

As for the relation that T bears to the two MSS. which make up the B class, 
it may be noted that it has two errors in common with b, but they probably come 
from variant readings in Enoch’s MS. (cf. p. 31), while the errors peculiar to TB 
at 38, 4 and 39, 4 (cf. p. 31) scarcely warrant us in assuming any closer relation 
between these two MSS. than exists between T and b. At many points, however, 
(e. g-, 2, 9; 7, 16; 8,10; 12,7) T and B preserve the true reading, or are nearer the 
archetype than b is. This state of things would seem to indicate that T, or its arche- 
type, bears the same relation to B that it does to the MS. of which b is a copy, @. e., 


Pontanus.” 


An interesting point of similarity, however, between T and B is brought out by 
comparing the variant readings in the two MSS. They are given in the following 


table: 


48 The orthography of a fifteenth-century MS. cannot be 
safely used in determining its relation to other MSS. of the 
same period, but for the sake of completeness it may be 
interesting to know the forms in T at the points where the 
spellingin Bb and Ce differ. There are thirty-nine such 
cases, They are the following: 1,9, danubius Bb, Dannu- 
biust} T, danuuius c, Danuuius C; 1,10, pluris* TB b, plures 
Cc; 2, 14, tris* TBb, tres Cc; 2, 17, pluris* T Bb, plures Ce; 
5,2, fedat T B b, foeda Cc; 5, 5, fecunda* TBb, foecunda 
Cc; 5,15, commerciorum Bb, commertiorum Ce, comer- 
tiorum} T; 5, 21, sequuntur* TBb, secuntur Cc; 9, 10, con- 
secrant* TBb, consacrant Ce; 11, 13, coercendi* T Bb, 
cohercendi Cc; 14, 8, ociot TBb, otio Ce; 15, 2, ociumt 
T Bb, otium C c; 16, 5, aedificiis* TB b, hedifitiis C, aedi- 
fitiis c; 16, 12, supterraneos Bb, sb’t?aneos C, subterra- 
neost Tc; 16, 13, onerant* T Bb, honerant Ce; 17, 7, 
commercia Bb, commertia Cc, comertiat T; 18, 8, delicias* 
T Bb, delitias Cc; 20, 5, deliciis Bb, delitiist T Cc; 20, 20, 
precia Bb, praetia Cc, pretia* T; 22, 5, negocia Bb, 
negotia* T C c; 25, 5, officia B b, offitiat T Cc; 25, 7, coercere* 
T Bb, cohercere Cc; 26, 8, seperent Bb, separent* TCc; 
28, 19, seperentur B b, separentur* TC c; 31, 7, precia Bb, 
praetia Ce, pretia* T; 33, 1, Tencteros* T Bb, thencteros C, 
thenctéros c; 34, 8, tetauimus Bb, tentauimus TCc; 34, 13, 
sanctiusque* T Bb, santiusque Cc; 37, 21, trisque* TBb, 
tresque Cc; 37, 25, ocium Bb, otium* T Cc; 38, 3, optinent 
Bb, obtinett TC, obtinent c; 38, 11, caniciem Bb, canitiem* 
TCce; 41,10, inclytum Bb, inclitum* TCec; 43, 1, marco- 


manorum* T Bb, Marchomanorum Cc; 45, 8, litore* T Bb, 
littore Cc; 45, 13, hostis* T B b, hostes Ce; 45, 23 precium- 
que Bb, pretiumque* T Ce; 45, 27, fecundiora* T Bb, 
foecundiora c, foecondiora C; 46,7, fedantur Bb, foedan- 
tur* TCe. Taking the orthography of Midallenhoff’s 
edition as a standard, in eighteen cases T is correct with 
Bb, inten with Ce: in four instances it is in error with 
Bb, and in six with Ce. Tentavimus in 34, 8 is left out of 
account. Inso far as tendencies in spelling are concerned, 
T shows a preference for plural forms in-is (e. g., tris, 
pluris), and the omission of the aspirate (e. g. coercere, 
Tencteros). Both of these points are characteristic of Bb. 
Tn the forms of separo (separent, etc.), and in the choice 
of b rather than pin such words as obtinet and subterra- 
neos it goes with Ce. It inclines to Ce also in showing a 
slight preference for t overe in such words as otium and 
pretium, and in the use of single consonants, but its prac- 
tice in this respect is not uniform. 


49 Millenhoff has stated his belief (D. A., pp. 80f.) in 
the independence of the class of MSS. to which it will be 
later shown that T belongs, but his discussion is very brief, 
and does not seem to me convincing. For these reasons 
the subject has been considered somewhat fully in this 
chapter, and along different lines from those followed by 
him. 


5) This relation is indicated in the stemma on p, 41. 


246 





FRANK Frost ABBOTT 33 


TABLE OF VARIANTS *! 


Ed. Muell. op 
1,10 Abnobae Arnobe 
Arbone, Arnone 
2,12 Tuistonem Tuisconem 
4, 5 quamquam quamquam 
6 Caerulei cerulei 
10 assuerunt” assueuerunt 
5,12  perinde perinde 
6,14 coniuncto coniuncto 
19 delectos delectos 
8,11 Albrunam Auriniam 
Albrunam or AIl- 
briniam 
11,13 tum tamen 
tantum 
2,5 crate crate 
16,4 loeant locant 
longant 
20,19  gratiosior gratiosior 
gratior 
22,15 ioci i0ci 
26, 6 praebent praestant 
praebent 
7 labore laborare 
labore 


51 All the passages are given in which T, B, or b has 
any variant reading. At these points C has no variants, 
couicto 
and c one only, viz., 6, 14, cuncto. Opposite the reading of 
Miillenhoff’s edition, in the proper column, is given the 
reading in the body of the text, and immediately below it 


B b 


Arnobe 

Arbonae 

Tristoné 

Tuisman 

quamquam 

tanquam 

ceruli 

cerulei 

assuerunt 

assuerint 

perinde 

proinde 

coniuncto 

cuncto b 
coniuncto 8 


cuncto 


delectos 
dilectos 
Auriniam 
Albriniam 


Auriniam 
Albriniam 


tamen 


crate 
grate 
longant 
locant 
gratiosior 
gratior 


longant (?) b 
locant 8 


10¢i ioci 


loci loci 
prestant 

prebent 

laborare 


labor 


labore 
laborare 


the variant. Thus at 2,12 B has Tristoné in the body of the 
text and Tuisman as a variant. The reading of T is given 
in all cases, even when T has no yariant. 


52 At 4, 10 Schwyzer reads adsueverunt; Millenhoff also 
in D. A. 


247 


34 
28, 
29, 


31, 


34, 


Tue ToLEpDO MANUSORIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





Boihaemi 
collationibus 
raro 
nascendi 
Dulgubnii 
illa 
consensimus 
sinuetur 

ac 
adversarum 
ambitu 
Gnaeoque 
inde 

sic 

ipso solo 
ornantur™ 
Semnones 
stato 

omnes 


Semnonum 


Boihemi 


collationibus 
collocationibus 
raro 

rara 
nascendi 
noscendi 
Dulgicubuni 
Dulgibnii 
illa 

illis 
consensimus 
consueuimus 
sinuetur 
sinatur 

et 

ac 
aduersarum 
adusariis 
ambitum 
ambitu 
Marcoque 


inde 

nam 

sicut 

sic 

ipso solo (see col- 
lation) 

armantur 

ornantur 

Semones 

Semnones 

statuto 

stato 

oms, 

nominis, numinis 

Semonum 

Semnonum 


Boihemi 
Boijemioné 
collocationibus 


rara 
raro 
noscendi 
nascendi 
Dulgibini 
Dulgitubini 
illa 


consensimus 
sinuetur 
ac 


aduersarum 
aduersariis 
ambitum 
ambitu 
Marcoquoque 
Marcoque 
inde 

nam 

sic 


solo 

ipso 
armantur 
ornantur 
Semones 
Senones 
stato 


omnes 
nois, numinis, 
Semonum 
Sennonum 


63 At 38,16 Schwyzer reads armantur Mallenhoff also in D. A. 
ne 
248 


aduersarum 


aduersariis 


ornantur 
armantur 


> m 
Senones 


m 
Senonum 





FRANK Frost ABBOTT 





39, 14 corpore corpore corpore corpore 
tempore tempore torpore 
40, 5 Suardones Suarines Suarines Suarines b 
Suardones Suardones 8 
41, 2 propior propior propior 
proprior 
43,12 Lygiorum Legiorum Legiorum 
Lygiorum 
14 Helvaeonas Heluetonas Heluetonas 
Halosionas Helueconas 
14 Helisios Helisios Helysios 
r 
Halisienas 
15 Nahanarvalos Nahanarulos Nahanarualos 
Naharualos Naharualos 
15 religionis religionis religionis 
regionis 
31 protinus protinus protenus 
protinus 
45, 5 equorum deorum deorum 
eorum 
8 Suebici Seuici Saeuici 
Sueuici Sueuici 
19 quaeve que ue que ue 
que te 
46, 1 Suebiae Sueuie Sueuie 
Sueue 
1 Peucinorum Peucinorum Peucinorum 
Peucurorum Peucurorum 
27 Oxionas ™ Oxionas Oxionas 
Etionas Etionas 


35 





This table brings out the fact that in one noteworthy respect T resembles B more 
than it does any other MS. of the Germania. As has been noted, there are no variant 
readings in C at the points under discussion, and c has one only. Eight are found in 
b, while B and T have thirty-nine and thirty-four respectively. An analysis of these 
cases shows that at ten points the reading in the body of the text and the variant are 
identical in B and T, that at six more (viz., 1, 10; 8, 11; 39, 1; 39, 13; 43, 15, and 
45, 8) they are very similar, and that in four more instances, not counting 34, 1, the 
reading in B is the variant in T and vice versa. At twenty points, therefore, B and 


54In D. A. Mallenhoff expresses a preference for Etionas. 


249 


36 THe ToLeEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 


T show the same double readings, and at certain points (e. g., 31, 7 and 37, 4) double 
readings seem to be reported from no other MSS. than T and B. 

In this connection we are principally concerned with the double readings common 
to T and B, but it will be convenient to discuss here a few of those found in T, which 
do not appear in B. At 11, 13 perhaps the archetype had tn, which would naturally 
be expanded into either tamen or tantum, or if misread tua, into tum, from which the 
further error ci=cum is an easy one to make. On 34,1 cf. Mall, D. A., p. 62. 
The readings illis and sicut at 34, 8 and 38, 6 are reported nowhere else. The second 
readings sinatur, 35, 6, and regionis, 43, 15, both of which stand in the text of Ce, 
were perhaps in the Hersfeld MS., and omitted by B, and possibly, as Miillenhoff 
thinks (D. A., p. 85), Suardones, 40, 5 was added by Enoch to his MS. after B, or 
the MS. from which B is derived had been copied.” 

We have just considered some of the instances from the list printed above, where 
B gives one reading only. It may be interesting to analyze briefly the other cases, 
i.e., the cases where B gives a double reading. The facts from this point of view are 
presented in the following conspectus: 

T has double readings; B and T, correct one in text - = = : 
T has double readings; B and T, incorrect one in text = - - - 
T has double readings; T correct in text, B incorrect - - - - 
T has double readings; T incorrect in text, B correct = - = 
T has double readings; all four readings incorrect - - - - 
T has one reading, correct; B, correct one in text - - - = 
T has one reading, correct; B, incorrect one in text = - - - - 
T has one reading, incorrect; B, correct one in text - - - - 


T has one reading, incorrect; B, incorrect one in text - - - - 
Total® - - - - - - - - - - - 


— 
Orowrnwmre w=! 0 


(Sv) 


The faithfulness with which B has recorded variant readings is one of the strong- 
est proofs which we haye of the conscientiousness with which that MS. was copied. 
Its accuracy in this respect leads us to trust it in other particulars. In a similar way 
the preservation of a large number of variants in T, some of which are impossible 
readings, like tempore at 39, 14, speaks for the fidelity of the copyist of T. He does 
not deserve the same measure of confidence as the copyist of B, however, for two 
reasons. In the first place, at four points where he has preserved variants, he has 
interchanged the variant and the reading in the text. At least this is the case if we 
accept the authority of B at these points. In the second place, in sixteen places he 
has omitted variants which B has preserved. This omission is only partially offset by 
his possible retention of three variants which the copyist of B overlooked, or did not 
find in the archetype when he made his copy. 

55That Suardones stood as a second reading in the able explanation can be offered for many of them, but in 
archetype was surmised by Waitz as early as 1874; cf. the present state of our knowledge of the MSS. it would 
Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte, Vol. I, p. 516, n. 1. The be hazardous to express a positive opinion about them, 


double readings in T at 1, 10; 29, 8; 34,11; 36, 2; 39, 3; 89,1; 56 The peculiar cases at 34, 1; 37, 19, and 38, 12 have been 
39, 13; 43, 14; and 45, 19 are not discussed here, A reason- left out of account. 


250 


FRANK Frost Apsorr 


| 








The resemblance which exists between T and B in the matter of variant readings 
does not indicate that T is more closely related to B than to b, but only shows that the 
common variants were in the archetype of T and B, and that both MSS. have preserved 
them with similar fidelity. 

IU 
T ANDTHE E MANUSCRIPTS 


In the last chapter we reached the negative conclusion that T is independent of 
BbCe, i. e., of the B and C classes of manuscripts. In this one we shall try to show 
that it is a member of the E class, a conclusion to which reference has already been 
made by way of anticipation (p. 22). Tagmann first recognized the connection 
between Massmann’s K (or L), Vat. 2964 (Massmann’s Rd), the Nuremberg editions, 
and the Roman edition of 1474," and Millenhoff established more definitely (D. A., 
pp. 78 ff.) their relation to the other MSS. of the Germania. Millenhoff secured a 
new collation of Rd, and himself examined R'. For L and N he took the readings of 
Massmann. His conclusion after comparing the four texts is as follows: “Es unter- 
liegt . . . . keinem bedenken nicht nur die Nirnberger drucke (e”) mit dem in anfang 
und am ende unvollstandigen Longolianus unter éin zeichen, sondern damit auch den 
rémischen druck (e*) und den Vaticanus selbst (7) als éine hs. E zusammenzufassen, 
da wesentliche differenzen unter den drei oder vier zeugen allein eintreten, wo die 
gemeinsame quelle doppellesarten hatte, bei denen die abschreiber oder herausgeber 
sich bald so bald so entschieden, die ohnehin geringen und nicht zahlreichen beson- 
derheiten jeder hs. oder jedes druckes aber bei jenem verfahren ohne schaden ver- 
schwinden.” (D. A., p. 79.) A comparison of T with any one of the E MSS. will 
decide, therefore, whether it belongs to that class or not. The comparison can be 
made most satisfactorily with the Nuremberg editions (e’), because, since Millenhoff 
wrote the sentence quoted above, a complete and accurate collation of them has been 
made by Roediger (cf. D. A., pp. 691 ff.).* The first thirteen chapters will be enough 
for our purpose. 

I, 1 rhaetiisq, T, rhaetys que e* J, IJ, rhaetis quae J/T 2 Danubio Te’ 6 rheticay 
Te? 9 Dannubius T, Danubiuse? 10 Arnobe (al arbone al none mary.) T, arnobae e°. 

II, 12 Tuisconé Te’ J, J7, Tuistonem e* JI 14 conditorisq Te* 16 hermiones 
Te’ 17 pluésq T, plures qe* 25 etiam om. Te’. 

IIT, 4 Barditum (Bariti marg.) T, barditum e* J, [J (d stricken out III) 7 voces 
Te? uidentur Te? 10 Ulixem Te’ 14 ACKITTVPIION T, Acriniprion (acxv@up stop 
III) e’* 16 monimentag Te*. 

IV, 2 conubiis T, connubys e” 10 assueverunt T, assueverint e. 

V, 15 comertioy Te? 20 quoque om. Te* 21 affectatione T, affectacione e*, 

VI, 5 cominus Te’ 10 distingunt Te’ 12 uarietate Te* (r over te JED) ie 
preliantur Te’. 


57TAGMANN, De Taciti Germaniae Apparatu Critico, 58There are three early Nuremberg editions, but after 
pp. 69 f. the first few pages they give exactly the same text. 


251 


38 Tue ToLepO MANUSORIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 








VII, 6 neque Te’ 11 fortuna corr. to fortuita T, fortuita e*? IZ, II, fortuna e? I 
16 aut Te’*. 

VIII, 9 negligunt Te’ 11 Auriniam (Albrunam or Albriniam [ ?] marg.) T, auri- 
niame’ 13 tanquam Te’. 

IX, 3 Herculem & Martem Te’ 8 assimilare Te’. 

X, 5 fortuitu Te’ 22 explorant T e’. 

XI, 4 inciderit Te* 10 ne iniussi T, nec iniussi e* 11 cetuum T, coetium e? 13 
tamen (tantum marg.) T, tn e*. 

XII, 7 ascondi Te* 8 penay T, poenarum e’ 14 adsunt Te’. 

XIII, 1 private Te’ 4 tum] tum T, cum e’ pater] ipsi Te* 11 etiam] et & Te’ 
16 semper & Te’ 18 cuique om. Te’. 

In the following list some of the readings characteristic of T are given; 7. e., 
readings not found in MSS. of the B or C classes: 

X, 5 fortuitu Te*e*» XI, 10 ne iniussi T, nec iniussi e*e* 7 XI, 11 cetuum T, 
coetium e’e*7 XIII, 6 semper et Te*e’n XIV, 9 adolescentum Te’ e* 7 XVI, 16 popu- 
latio Te*e*» XVIII, 19 uiuentes Te’e*n 19 parientes Te*e*n XX, 7 in ex aucta T, 
in exauta e* (s over ut e* II) XXV, 6 verberant Te’e* XXVIII, 25 collati Te’ e*n 
XXXV, 13 iniuriam Te* XXXVII, 10 consulatum] conventum Te” XXXIX, 6 hor- 
rentia Te’ XLII, 8 Trudi Te’ XLV, 19 que ve (vo marg.) T, quae vero e* XLVI, 
16 sola Te’. That T is a member of the E class, so called, to which these four 
MSS. and early editions belong, is apparent without comment. 

It would be hazardous in the present state of our knowledge” to attempt to find 
the exact relation which the several members of the E class bear to one another, but 
some general conclusions on this point may be stated with a great deal of confidence. 
We have already noted (p. 36) that the preservation in T of variant readings whose 
presence in Hersfeldensis is attested by B furnishes proof both of the fidelity of the 
copyist of T and of the excellence of the MS. which he followed. The same infer- 
ence has been drawn (p. 31) from the appearance in T of certain abbreviated forms, 
probably taken from the archetype, out of which errors have developed even in our 
best MSS. These a priori considerations are supported, so far as the comparative 
excellence of T and the other members of the E class is concerned, by the presence in 
T of certain words which have been overlooked by the copyists of the other E MSS. ; 
e. g-, 10, 19, sed T, om. e*e*n and 16, 15 et T, om. e’, and by the preservation of the 
true reading in T where e’ and the others have gone astray. Cases in point are 2, 21, 
primi T, pr. enie’, primi enie’, primum 7; 15, 6, iidem T, iisdem e*; 18, 18, data T, 
parata e*, parata (alr data parata marg.) 7; 19, 5, abscisis] abscisis Ty, adcisis en 


59 An accurate collation of e2 has been given by Rodi- 
ger, as already noted. The readings of T are given in chap. 
ii of this paper. M@llenhoff examined R! and 7», but did 
not publish his collations. Some of the readings of R! and 
7 are given by Massmann, but a comparison of Massmann’s 
critical apparatus for B and b with the MSS. themselves 
has led me to distrust the readings which he reports for 
other MSS. WUwnscou in Hermes, Vol. XXXII (1897), p. 43, 


reports Mallenhoff as announcing after an examination of 
K (or L) that it was a direct copy of the Nuremberg edi- 
tion, and this statement agrees with the passage quoted 
above (p. 87) from the Deutsche Altertumskunde in regard 
toe2. Complete collations of R! and y are needed, there- 
fore, before the exact relations of the members of the E 
class to one another can be determined with certainty. 


252 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 39 





adscisis e*. Still more significant perhaps are the passages where the writing was not 
perfectly legible. In some of these places the original copyist of T has first made a 
mistake, and at once corrected it, whereas in the other E MSS. an error is left uncor- 
rected, e. g., 19, 7, finere corr. to finire T’, finuere e’, funere 7; 30, 14, impedite corr. 
to in pedite T', impedite 7. In two other cases T is in error, but is nearer the arche- 
type than the other MSS. These are 20, 7, inexhausta] in exaucta T, inexauta 7, in 
ex auta (s over ut in IT) e’, and 37, 8, Papirio| Sapirio T, Sapino e’, Sapiro 7. 

In the matter of double readings T bears to the other E MSS. a relation very 


similar to that which B bears to b, C, and c. It may be remembered, for instance, 
1 prebent 


1 pro 

that we find at 5, 12 comin B, perinde b, proinde C ¢; at 26, 6, prestant B, pbet b, 
praebent c, pstat C. In a similar way T has double readings at a great many points 
where each of the other E MSS. has selected one and omitted the other. Examples 
of this state of things are 20, 19, gratiosior (gratior marg.) T, gratiosior e’, gratior 7; 
31, 1, raro (rara marg.) T, rara e’, raro 7; 31,7, nascendi (noscendi marg.) T, noscendi 
e*, nascendi 7; 34, 1, Dulgicubuni (Dulgibnii marg.) T, Dulgibini e*, Dulgicubuni 7; 
37, 28, inde (nam marg.) T, inde e’, nam 7; and 39, 14, corpore (tempore marg.) T, 
corpore e’, tempore 7.” It follows from all these facts that T is not a copy of any one 
of the E MSS., and also that it is one of the best representatives of them. 

It could hardly be expected that many true readings would occur in T which are 
not to be found in either Bb or Ce. The following cases may, however, be men- 
tioned: 19, 5, abscisis|] abscisis T, adcisis B, accisis be, accissis C; 20, 6, separet | 


separet T, seperet Bc’, sep & C, separet ce; 80, 1, Hercynio] Hercynio T, Hircynio B, 
hereinio Ce, hireynio b; 37, 19, Mallio] Mallio T, Malio B, Manlio bC, Manilio ¢; 


m 
39, 1, Semnones| Semones (Semnones marg.) T, Semones (f Senones above) B, seno- 
nes b, semones Cc, Semnones above c’; 40, 1, Langobardos| Langobardos T, Largo- 


bardos B, logobardos b, longobardos Ce, logobardos (Longobardi marg.) 8; 40, 5, 
Suardones| Suarines (Suardones marg.) T, Suarines Bb Ce (dones above ines f£); 


43, 14, Helisios] Helisios T, Helysios Cc, Helysios (t halisienas above) B, elisios b, 
and apparently Albrunam" at 8, 11, which is found in T only. One should mention 
in this connection 45, 22 also, where T b alone seem to have preserved the true read- 
ing, profertur. The real value of the E class lies in the fact, as Mallenhoff has shown, 
that it casts the deciding vote when Bb and Ce are at variance, and thus furnishes a 
safe basis for the reconstruction of the text at a rather large number of points. In 
eighty-seven of the one hundred cases where Bb and Ce offer different readings (cf. 
p. 30) the agreement of E with the one or the other class may be accepted with safety 


60 Incidentally it is interesting to notice that the editor omitted, while the copyist of » chooses the variant, per- 


of 2 consistently follows one practice in making a selec- haps in the belief that it is a correction or a preferable 
tion between the two readings, while the copyist of 7 reading. 
adopts another method. In e2 the reading which is found 61It is possible that the reading in T is Albriniam, but 


in the body of the text in B is selected and the variant is it seemed to me clearly intended for Albrunam. 


253 


40 THe TOLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





as the determining factor, and in a fair number of these instances a safe decision could 
not be made without the help of E. Such cases, for instance, are 2, 24; 4, 10; 10, 22; 
42, 7; 45, 4; 45, 28. 
TY) 
SUMMARY 


THE main points developed in the foregoing discussion may be set down briefly 
here. Codex 49, 2 in the chapter library of the cathedral at Toledo contains the Ger- 
mania and Agricola of Tacitus, an oration by Io. Antonius Campanus, a fragment of 
an oration, some of Pliny’s Letters, and another oratorical fragment. The scribe was 
M. Angelus Crullus Tuders, who, at the end of the Germania, and again at the end 
of the oration of Antonius, speaks of himself as publicus scriba Fulginii. The sub- 
scription to the Germania bears the date of June 1, 1474; that to the oration of 
Antonius, December 5 of the same year; while the Agricola, which stands between 
these two works, was in all probability written in the half-year intervening between 
these two dates. 

The MS. of the Germania has variants, thirty-nine in number, written on the 
margin in the hand and ink of the original copyist. There are three different classes 
of corrections, which are usually inserted above the line. Those of the first class, T’, 
are made by the original copyist, and correct errors committed by him in following 
the copy before him. The corrections of T? are taken from another MS., perhaps from 
Vindobonensis I, and are to be rejected, except in certain specified cases, where it is 
clear that the correction serves to restore the reading of the archetype of T. The 
scribe whom we have called T’ also inserted the titles and paragraph marks, and his 
corrections, which are unimportant, come apparently from the archetype of T. 

The MS. T shows the errors common to the four authoritative MSS., B (Vat. 
1862), b (Leidensis), C (Vat. 1518), and ¢ (Neapolitanus), and therefore evidently goes 
back, as these MSS. do, to the codex which Enoch of Ascoli brought into Italy from 
Germany in the fifteenth century. It is, however, independent of any one of the four 
MSS. mentioned above. This conclusion rests upon a number of facts. T cannot be 
a simple copy of any one of these MSS., because it is correct at many points where 
each of the others shows a false reading, or has omitted a word. The theory that it 
may have been a copy of one of the B or C MSS., extant or now lost, is likewise 
untenable. At one hundred points or more the readings in Bb and Ce differ, Bb 
showing the true reading at one point, Cc at another. At these points T agrees first 
with one group, then with the other, giving a correct text in eighty-seven of the 
instances mentioned. An analysis of these cases shows that, if we regard T as a copy 
of a Bb MS., with corrections from a Cc MS., we must assume that the copyist 
rejected the incorrect readings of Bb and selected the true ones in 80 per cent. of the 
cases involved. If we regard Tas a copy of a Ce MS., with corrections from Bb, the 
percentage rises to 94. Neither supposition seems credible. Furthermore, in cer- 

254 


FRANK Frost ABpBporT 41 





tain cases T alone of the five MSS. under discussion preserves the reading of the 
archetype. Finally, at a number of points, T seems to be nearer the archetype than 
the others, and to give us the forms out of which errors or divergent readings in the 
others have developed. The independence of 'T becomes still more apparent if it be 
compared with an individual (extant) MS. of the B or C classes, because to the cases 
where it is correct with Bb, while Ce is wrong, must be added those where B or b or 
C or ¢ is in error, while T gives the true reading. 

It is more closely related to the B class than to the C class. At points where the 
one is correct and the other incorrect, T, if in error, is in error in almost every case 
with the B MSS. Equally significant are the three cases where the two groups differ, 
and both are wrong. In all these cases T follows Bb. The retention of variant read- 
ings in T shows the fidelity of the copyist, and establishes a resemblance between that 
MS. and B, but does not prove that T is more closely related to B than it is to any 
one of the others. 


(Hersfgldensis] (Hersfeldensis) 












{Ponfanus| 
[Pontanus) 


Cc 


T belongs to the E class, the independent members of which are Vat. 2964 
(Massmann’s Rd), the Nuremberg editions, and the Roman edition of 1474. This 
fact is apparent from the common errors of these four manuscripts and editions. It 
is independent of the other members of its class. The variants show this to be the 
case; as well as the true readings in T at points where all the others are in error. It 
is perhaps most conclusively shown at the points where the writing in the archetype 
of the E MSS. was not perfectly legible. At several of these points the copyist of T 
first made a mistake and then corrected it, whereas in the other E manuscripts and 
editions the error is left uncorrected. The copyist of T has also retained the double 
readings, which, in most cases, do not appear in the others. In this respect it bears 
the same relation to the other members of the E.class that B does to bCe. Tis 
therefore independent of the other members of the E group, and is apparently the best 
representative of that class. 

The value of T lies partly in the true readings which it has preserved at points 
where BbC and ¢ are all in error — although no one of these is new — but mainly in 


255 


42, Tuer ToLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





the fact that the testimony of the E class settles the reading at the points where Bb 
and Ce are at variance, and thus places textual criticism at these points on a more 
secure basis. The exact relation of the E MSS. to one another cannot yet be deter- 
mined, since a full collation of one of them is still lacking. Furthermore, it is not certain 
whether B is a direct copy of Enoch’s MS. or not. Making a reservation covering 
this point, and merely for the sake of illustrating one of the forms which the relation 
of the E MSS. to one another may take, we may draw alternative stemmata (see the 
preceding page), the difference between the two being that in one it is assumed that a 
MS. intervened between B and Enoch’s MS. (Hersfeldensis?), while in the other B is 
regarded as the direct descendant of Enoch’s MS., in which case H, the archetype of 
the E MSS., becomes also a direct descendant of Enoch’s MS.” 


APPENDIX I 
CORRECTIONS TO MULLENHOFF’S CRITICAL APPARATUS TO THE GERMANIA 


The following corrections in Millenhoff’s critical apparatus, or additions to it, should be 
made: 

1,6 Renus C; 11,2 ad étibus C, 11 celebrat C; V.1 specie] spé C; 9 negaverint] nauigauerit 
B, 18 simplitius C, 21 secit»eC; VI, 14 urbe (2) corr. in orbe B; 1X 8speciem] spém C, 8 erroris, 
corr. in oris C; X, 9 —phibueat (= prohibuerant sive prohibuerat] C; XI, 8 si céstituit C, 14 
priceps C; XII, 13 ex plebe] & ex plebe (& deleto) C; XIII, 1 nichil B, 12 ei? eius C, 15 haec] 
hee B, 15 hae] he B; XIV, 2 cémittatui C, 15 incéti C; XV, 12 nd m6{a|singlis C; XVI, 9 speciem] 
spém C, 17 ignoraf (= ignorantur) C; XVII, 8 foeras corr. in feras C, 11 femine B; XVIII, 5 
ambiont® C, 15 admouetur C; XIX, 8 pudicie B; XXI, 10 imodo corr. in modo C; XXVI, 2 
agro C, 11 species] spés BC; XXVIII, 7 renumque, 21 quidem] q C, 25 conlocati B; XXX, 14 
qué C, 15 honorat C; XXXI, 11 cede B; XXXIII, 2 Anguiuaros corr. in Anguiuarios C; 
XXXIV, 4 friscis corr. in frisis C; XXXV, 7 pplis C; NE 3 iocundius B, 4 1 potentis 


B, 4 falsi CC; XXXVII, 1 sinum] situ B, 10 cone ee Se B, 18 galie ue C, 16 cedem B, 
XXXVIII,4q q, C; XL, 15 sumut B, 18 sain tne C; XLII, 1 h°mum duros C; XLITII, 10 


dirimit C; XLIV, 3 apulsui corr. in appulsui a m. rec. C, 13 sceuiunt corr. in lasciuiunt C; 
XLY, 15 ihertia C, 24 oleté C; XLVI, 2 fonniort 4-18 domiciliis sunt in plaustro om. C, 13 fons 


(= fonniis) C, 28 ferarum C. 

Navigauerit V, 9 in B is a surprising error, and its occurrence may abate a little our confi- 
dence in the accuracy of the copyist of that MS. The -is form in inpotentis 36, 4 is one of the 
characteristic forms in B, if that MS. be compared with Ce. It is interesting to notice that there 
is no variant over qué 30, 14in C. It had seemed strange that the copyist of C, while neglect- 
ing variant readings everywhere else, even where difficult proper names occurred, should have 
inserted one here. For sinum 37, 1 M. reports sinum BCe, situm b. This made it look as if 
situm were an error peculiar to b, and rendered it somewhat difficult to account for the same 
error in E without supposing that one MS. was corrected from the other. It is clear, however, 
now that the error existed in the archetype of the Band E MSS. Pudicie 19, 8 may be added 

62 Brackets inclosing a name ora letter indicate that a MS. is now lost. Fora discussion of the relation which T 
bears to B and b respectively c/, p. 32. 


256 


FRANK Frost ABBOTT 


43 





to the list of places (cf. 9, 4; 21, 14 ete.) where B has made a mistake in writing a word of which 
b has preserved the correct form. The fact that the copyist of B first wrote urbe for orbe at 


6, 14 reminds one of the error which was actually committed at 2,5 by several E MSS. The 
-tum 
most interesting of these new readings is con 37, 10 in B. All of the E MSS. have at this point 


conventum, which evidently came from an incorrect expansion of the abbreviated form which 
the copyist of B has brought over without change into his text. 


APPENDIX II 


NOTES ON A MANUSCRIPT CONTAINING PLINY’S LETTERS 


The Codex, No. 49, 2 in the Chapter Library at Toledo, in which the Germania of Tacitus is 
found, also contains the Letters of Pliny. They run from folio 66r. to 221y., and, as already noted 
in my article on the Germania, on folio 221v. stands the subscription Caii Plinii oratoris atque 
Phylosaphi Dissertissimi epistolarum liber octavus et ultimus explicit foeliciter deo gras, and 
below Finis, Perusie¢ in domo Crispolitorum (?) 1486, AMHN Tedws, M. Angelus Tuders. This sub- 
scription led Dr. Wiinsch, who was allowed to make only a very few notes on the MS., to the very 
natural conclusion that only Books VIII and IX were given (cf. Classical Review, XIII [1899] 
p. 274). I found, however, on examining it, that the MS. contained Books I-VII and Book IX. 
The first leaf is gone, so that the text begins with an ut solebas, I, 3,2. The manuscript does not 
end with an incomplete letter, as Dr. Wiinsch thought, but IX, 40 is given in full. The twenty- 
seventh letter of the fourth book is lacking, and the letters are frequently numbered, until we 
reach 100 at V,6, when the numbers cease. After No. 8 the letters in Book V stand in the order 
21, 15, 10-14, 16-20, 9. The MS. apparently belongs, therefore, to Keil’s second group (cf. 
Praef. pp. v—vi), of which the oldest representative is the codex archivii Casinatis of the year 
1429. Manuscripts of this class are freely corrected from the one-hundred-letter collection. 
This accounts for the fact that the letters are numbered up to V, 6. 

I did not have time enough at my disposal to make a complete collation of the MS., but 
I subjoin readings for the first few letters at the beginning and the end of it. The numbers 
refer to the pages and lines of Keil’s edition. 

II, 20 aduocaris te om. foelix 21 tempus] temnis est enim om 22 curas] curas et 23 
negocium ocium 24 vigilie in etiam 27 cepit 28 quod] q modo] modo j (i deleta) 

Superscriptio Epta 1111 Pli.S Pompeie Celerine socrui S P 

33 Otriculano (otriculanus in marg.) Carsolano (carsolanus in marg.) 34 vero om. bal- 
neum 36 Plauti dictum in marg. 38 mei] mei te 

III, 1 diverteris 4 servos] suos 6 per se ipsos 

Superscriptio Pli. S. Voconio Rufo S Pepfa V 10 M.] Marco humilioremque 12 tectiora] 
tet?ora 13 aurileni corr. in aruleni 16 cicatrices tigniostum (stigmosum marg.) 17 Senec- 
tionem 18 quidem] qd Mettius Catus meis]eis 19 ego]ego aut 21 qum 25 reminiscebantur 
corr. in reminiscebatur me ipsum 24 v.13 nitebatur corr. in nitebamur 25 cause Mettii 
26 relegatus a Domitiano 27 sentias Iterum ego (Iterum ego verbis deletis) 29 affuisse 30-1 si 
de hoc . . . . sentias om. sed in marg. add, 34 quidem esse 38 ergo ex 

IV, 1 mox a (a deleta) 2 reconcilient corr. in reconciliet venit corr. in pervenit 3 cum] 
qum (qui tum marg.) 5 ferre) perferre 6a Spurinna] ait Burina 7 porticu] portam (porticu 
marg.) 10 parce] pee (paxa sive para marg.) cui ego dispicies] ingens : quoi dispSiets (dispicies 
marg.) putas 11 decepi corr. in decipi Mauricum] maritum 12 ab exilio]- n - ab exilio 13 
illam corr. in illum 14 comittem corr. in comitem 17 quod] q aliqn 18 Ruffo Ruffus 19 
secula corr, in seculi 20 dem:q*’ 21 potuisse] potius se existimare 23 secudi 24 iudicii] 

257 


44 THE TOLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACITUS 





studii 25 quor esom. 26 quid)q Metti 27 et om. 27 haesitabundus] haesitabundus inquit 
interogavi 28 ut om. 34 Maricus 35 esse om. dvcxafalperov] se diligenter 36 curatur] evitatur 
(amatur marg.) 387 amore fortius concussa] concisa (concussa marg.) 
V,1lut)exut Maritum 2et]est 3 previdere corr. in providere temtante corr. in tem- 
tandi 4constabat quia]q* equu 
Superscriptio Plinius -S - Cornelio Tacito S-P-epfa VI 10 ridebis] videbis corr. in 
ridebis ego]ego Plinius 1let quidem]eq cepi 12 et quieteom.sed in marg.add. 13 erat] 
erant aut (aut deletwm est et non in marg. additum est) 14 pugilares 16 agitatione] acogi- 
tatione 18 ipsamque corr. in ipsumque 21 non] non (dum in marg. add.) 22 vale om. 
Superscriptio Pli-S -Octayo Rudo-S-P-epia VII 26 idem] q deletwm est et idem in 
marg. additum est 27 Iovi Optimo Maximo Homerus v.29 0m. 30 ac renutu] atque rem tu 
tuo voto 32 ex advocationem pr. m. 36 petis (a supra e scripta) id (illud supra id scripto) 
Pagina CXCVI 
SuperscriptioC -P-S- Paulino SuoS:-P- Thee 8aom. 10 nisi te]in me 11 locan- 
dorum] tuscanorum(?) 13 lustro] iusto 14plerique 16 natum]na@ putant 16-17 occurrendum 
ergo] occurrendum quoque 17 et] aq (=a et?) est] est q- (=est et?) 18 loct alioqui] alioqn 
2 iustius]istius redditus 2lacris 23 tentanda 24non]nom 25 quoque ut] q, i ut (wna littera 
ante i erasaest) gaude gratulatione] celebratione 
Superscriptio C-P-S-Saturnio suo S-P- 29 ita ut 30 librorum corr, in librum 31 
cui] gi (= quoi) 
Superscriptio G-P-S-MustioS-P- 36 haruspicam monituom. reficiendam ceteris 
CXCVII, 1 et in maius om. cum sit] quom scit 2 aliquid stato] quu statio 3 magnus] 
magis popule corr. in populi 5 ergo om. 5-6 religioseque] religio seq; 6 aedem] eandeé 
extrusero 7 aede corr. in aedi has om. 8 quattuor] cui°T quoius 9 parentes corr. in parietes 
10 vel faciendum] faciundum yelemendum om. 11-12 vetustate sui partibus 13 istine esse] 
e- incesse 14 rationem corr.in ratione lociom. possum 15 cireumdare templo] Tito Livio 
templi] temporali abruptissimis] ablutissimis 16 ripibus corr. in ripis pratum] templum pratu 
(templum deleto) 17-18 ipsum .... melius om. 18 invenies 
Superscriptio C-P-S-Fuseo-S-P 25 permutem] permulto corr. in permutet 27 post] 
post cena 28 iam non 31 nunc] no ver et autumnum quae] vere tantum nung, 32 hiemem] 
hiemem statim mediam ita] Ia 


258 


THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE 
CITY DIONYSIA 





THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE CITY 
DIONYSIA 


A CHRONOLOGICAL STUDY IN GREEK LITERARY HISTORY 
Epwarp Capps 


ArisTorLe’s brief statement in the fifth chapter of the Poetics, ai yap yopov 
KOLMOOY Ope ToTE 6 apywv exer, has proved a veritable will-o’-the-wisp to students of 
Attic comedy, alluring by the apparently clear and well-defined light of a definite 
epoch date, 6 dpyov édaxev, but at the same time perplexing and baffling the eager 
searcher by the vague and flickering oyé wore. And many are the victims who have 
been led into the bog. There have been those who have attributed the indefiniteness 
of the statement to a lack of definite knowledge on the part of the writer. Others, 
unwilling to credit Aristotle with ignorance on a matter of literary history to which he 
alludes in this manner, assume that the fault lies in the brevity and condensation of 
the utterance, and proceed to explain in precise terms what the oracle meant to say, 
But there is still another way of looking at the matter. I am inclined to think that, for 
the public which he addressed, there was no vagueness or uncertainty in these words. 
Had it suited the writer’s purpose he could have added ézi Tod detvos dpyovros and could 
have given, approximately at least, the number of years in the interval owe ove; but 
he was writing for those who knew, for whom such learned commentary, for which 
we moderns have invented the footnote just to show that we know, would have merely 
encumbered the argument. The trouble with most interpreters has been, partly the 
lack of the evidence upon which Aristotle based his assertion (and for this they are, 
of course, not responsible), partly the failure to recognize the nature of this evidence, 
and partly a natural proneness to wrench such evidence as we have had so as to 
make it fit a preconceived opinion as to the degree of lateness required to justify 
Aristotle’s phrase. 

It is not my purpose in this paper to launch a new hypothesis nor to indulge in 
speculations concerning the early history of Attic comedy, but to endeavor to recover 
from material which Aristotle must have used an important date in this history, a 
date which Aristotle himself evidently regarded as an epoch date —the official recogni- 
tion of comedy by the state through its acceptance upon the programmes of the festivals 
of Dionysus. Many attempts have been made by others to determine, precisely or 
approximately, the time of this occurrence. The evidence which I shall employ has 
been known and used, with a greater or less realization of its significance, for more 
than a quarter of a century. But no one, in my opinion, has yet reached a conclusion, 
based upon this evidence, which is demonstrably correct, or which either harmonizes 
Aristotle with the other evidence, presumably possessed by him, or explains satisfac- 


261 


4 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City DionystIA 





torily the existence of testimony apparently at variance with him. I believe that 
Aristotle’s information about the early Attic comedy down to the time of published 
texts of the plays was derived wholly from the official records of the Athenian dramatic 
contests. Fragments of a copy of these records are still extant. 
tion of these fragments I hope to be able to get considerably nearer the epoch date of 
comedy, so much nearer that Aristotle and the other literary authorities will be put 
beyond the possibility of misinterpretation or distrust. That we may approach the 
new evidence free from the current misconceptions relative to these, it will be necessary 
first of all to review the much-disputed passages referred to. 

Lest the title chosen for this study lead to a misunderstanding, I must explain at 
the outset that I do not believe that 6 apyev contains a reference to the City Diony- 
We have every reason to believe that the administration of both festivals was 
essentially the same so far as the method of accepting a play, yopov diddvat Tov apxovra, 


By anew reconstruc- 


sla. 


is concerned, though different archons had the responsibility for the contests at each 
festival. 
therefore be rash to assume that he had in mind the first archon as opposed to the 
second. Other reasons for this opinion will be given at the proper time; for the 
present let it suffice to state that I have specified the City Dionysia in the title only 
because the inscriptional evidence, by means of which I hope to arrive at the epoch date, 
has reference to this festival alone. 


In view of the general form in which Aristotle’s statement is cast, it would 


ARISTOTLE AND THE LITERARY EVIDENCE 


1. Epicharmus, Chionides, and Magnes.—In the third chapter of the Poetics 
Aristotle presents briefly the grounds upon which the Dorians disputed with the Athe- 
nians the distinction of having first brought comedy to the position of a recognized 
branch of literature. “The Megarians of Sicily claim it,” he says, ‘‘on the ground that 
from Megara Hyblaea came Epicharmus, who was much earlier than Chionides and 
Magnes.” ' Chionides and Magnes, according to this, are the two poets who best 
represent the claims of Athens. They are grouped together as belonging to the same 
period. They must be considered the earliest Athenian comic poets of prominence, 
the first who stood out as representatives of a comedy justly entitled to the name, 
though not necessarily the earliest persons whose names were still remembered as 
having had a part in the new movement. The assertion of Epicharmus’s priority is 
put into the mouth of the Megarians, but Aristotle apparently accepts it as true.’ His 
priority is, of course, not simply that of birth, for that alone would not have justified 


1 Poetics, 1448a, 32: Kai ot é« Sixedias (avturovovvTar THs 
Kwumb.as), éxeiBev yap hv "Emixapmos 0 mointys, TOAAM mpoTEpos 
@v Xwwyvidov kat Mayvytos. 

2SusemiuL, ‘De Aristotele primordiisque comoediae 
Atticae,”’ Revue de philologie, Vol. XIX (1895), p. 197, main- 
tains that this statement is Aristotle’s own. It was cer- 
tainly not repudiated by him. There is no evidence of a 
disposition in Aristotle’s day to belittle Epicharmus in 


the interests of Attic comedy, as WILAMOWITZ seems to 
think. Aristotle frankly assigns to him the credit of intro- 
ducing the plot (Poetics, 5), and Plato (Thect., 152) places 
him by the side of Homer. Dents seems to have had no 
predecessors or followers in the view upon which he in- 
sists, that moAA@ mporepos is an exaggeration of the 
Megarians, and not sanctioned by Aristotle; cf. La comédie 
grecque, p. 31, note and p. 116 note 3, 


262 


EDWARD Capps 5 





the pretensions of the Megarians, but of achievement. If the argument of the 
Megarians had any weight whatever, Epicharmus must have achieved a reputation 
among them considerably before Chionides and Magnes became prominent at Athens.’ 

Now we have a number of notices which help to establish the chronology of 
Epicharmus. The exceptionally well-informed Anonymous rept cop@dias IT Kaibel * 
places his floruit (yéyove) in the 73d Olympiad, 485-5. Suidas® is more explicit, say- 
ing that he was active as a poet at Syracuse “‘six years before the Persian Wars,” 7. e., 
in 486, at a time when certain other poets were active at Athens. The Parian Marble” 
synchronizes Epicharmus with Hieron (regn. 478-467), as do Timaeus,' Plutarch,’ and 
others.’ Add the fact that his Naoo was brought out after 477/6," and the statement 
of Diogenes" that he lived to be ninety years old, and we have all that is recorded 
about the Sicilian poet’s life without having recourse to combinations. For such 
combinations the most important facts, for our present purpose, are (1) the destruction 
of Megara Hyblaea by Gelon shortly after his accession, ca. 483; according to this, 
Suidas could not be far wrong in dating the poet’s migration to the capital in the year 
486; and (2) the statement of Suidas” that Deinolochus, son or pupil of Epicharmus, 
flourished in the 73d Olympiad.” Whether son or pupil, he must have been consider- 
ably younger than Epicharmus. 

Regarding Chionides and Magnes, on the other hand, we have just two notices 
outside of Aristotle. Of the former Suidas“ speaks as the mpwtaywuarns Ths apxyaias 
Kkwpowdias, and says that he was producing plays in 488. The first part of the notice 

3 POPPELREUTER’S interpretation, ‘‘Epicharmus multo mation could haye been derived only from the official rec- 
ante Magnetem et Chionidem comoedias scribere coepit,” ords. Neither the names of Phrynichus or Aeschylus, which 
is in the right direction, although I think Aristotle’s idea preceded Euetes in the didascalic records, nor those of 


would haye been better expressed by the phrase of the Polyphrasmon or... . trmos, which followed, would have 
chronographers, ¢yvwpigero, clarus habetur; cf. De comoe- expressed so precisely the desired synchronism with Epi- 


diae Atticae primordiis, p. 17, note. charmus’s residence in Syracuse as does that of Euetes. 
4Com. Graec. frag., Vol. I, p. 7: xpovois Se yéyove kata THY 6V. 71: ad’ od ‘lepwv Supaxoveay ervpavvevoer, ern HHIUIII, 

oy’ OAvpmada, apxovros APnynar Xapyros (472/1). Hv de Kai “Exixappos o rorntns 
5S. vu. "Emixappos: Fv 5€ mpo tav Meporxay Eryn ¢ didaoxwv Kara TOUTOV, 

€v Supaxovaats: ev d€ "APyvats Everns cat Evéevidns kat MvAAos 7 Quoted by Clement of Alexandria, Strom., I, p. 353. 

émedecxvuvto. For many years these three persons were re- 8 Apophth., 175 C; Quomodo quis adulat. disting., 68 A. 


garded either as comic poets or as fabrications. But now 


9 ¢ 7 5. 
that Euetes is found in the list of tragic poets next to HOKE Ei COM GH GEC LC sOle LD aseao 


Aeschylus (CIA II, 977a), the fact is recognized that 10 Borcxa ad Pind., Pyth., I. 

Suidas does not say that they are comic poets. Myllus, 11 VIII, 3,3. [Lucian], Macrob., 25, gives 97. 

however, seems clearly to be due to a misapprehension —a 12,9. v, Actvddoxos* Kwpids Hv emi THs oy bAvuMAdOs, vids 
comic character for a comic poet; but the name Euxenides "Emiyappov, ws b€ tives, pabnTHs. 


may well be right. The author of the statement was there- 
fore not an unscrupulous champion of the claims of Athens 
to the evpeots of comedy, as WILAMOWITZ thought (Hermes, 
Vol. IX (1875), p. 341), who stupidly invented some names in 
Ev- in order to carry. Attic comedy back to Epicharmus. 
Now that we have Euetes, we see the danger in this argu- 
ment; for we chance to know the names of just eleven 
comic poets whose names begin in Ev- | 

We may add that the chance discovery of Euetes in the 
official lists of victors—an obscure poet whose name is never 
mentioned elsewhere, who won only one victory at the Dio. 


13 LORENZ, Leben und Schriften des Choers Epicharmos, 
p. 55, finds it a suspicious circumstance that Suidas groups 
so many comic poets in the same Olympiad, five Attic and 
three Sicilian (the third being Phormis). But Aristotle 
himself groups four of the eight together, and Suidas does 
not state, as we have seen, that the other three are comic 
poets. LoreNz’s suspicion, which is due to MEINEKE’s 
influence, goes far to vitiate what would otherwise be the 
sanest discussion we have of the relations of Chionides and 
Magnes to Epicharmus. 


nysia—and in a position that tallies with remarkable accu- 14,9. v. Xwwvidys’ . . . . Ov Kai A€yovor mpwraywrioTHy yeve- 
racy with the date assigned by Suidas, goes far to vindicate Oat THS apxatas Kwuwdias, SidaoKxew S€ Eregw OKT mpd Tov 
the trustworthiness of the source of Suidas. Such infor- Tlepotxay, 7. €., in 489/8, 488/7, or 487/6. 


263 


6 Tue INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE CiTy DrIonysIA 





is merely a deduction from Aristotle’s third chapter; the latter part, considered by 
itself, is strongly suggestive of the language of the didascalize, Xvwvidns éd/dacxev— the 
more so now that we know for a certainty that the hitherto suspected notice which 
mentions Euetes was derived from such a source. The notice in Suidas about 
Magnes” seems to be nothing but a weak echo of the 70AX@ mpotepos of Aristotle. Apart 
from this and the two inscriptions which mention his name we have only the combi- 
nation set up by Meineke" on the basis of Aristophanes’s Knights, 524, from which the 
safe inference is drawn that Magnes was dead at the time of the production of this 
play, in 425, and that he died in old age. But by this combination we can only arrive 
at about the year 465 as the latest time at which the poet may have entered upon his 
dramatic career.” 

Now if we select from among these notices the most significant, having regard to 
the dates alone and not to the events underlying the dates, and compare them with 
the statement of Aristotle, we at once detect an apparent contradiction: Epicharmus 
488-485 (Anon., Suid.), Chionides 488 (Suid.), but "Eméyappos 7oAX@ mpdtepos Xiwvidou 
(Arist.). Meineke was the first, I believe, to find a difficulty here, but he has had a 
long line of successors. Those who assume, as he did, that the earliest date given for 
Epicharmus is to be regarded as the epoch date on which Aristotle’s 7oAX@ mpdtepos 
was based, have been obliged either (1) to reject the date of Chionides given by 
Suidas, or (2) to discredit the text of Aristotle, or, finally, (3) to invent some expla- 
nation by which the appearance of Chionides in 488 will not count in the comparison 


set up by Aristotle.” 


15S. uv. Mayvys: emtBaddAec & ’Emcxapuw veos mpeoBvTp. 
16 Historia critica comicorum Graecorum, pp. 29 ff. 


17 MEINEKE, it is true, places his floruit, not the begin- 
ning of his career, ca. Olymp. 80 (460-457), and has been fol- 
lowed in this by almost everyone since. But there is noth- 
ing in Aristophanes that suggests that Magnes’s failure 
was a quite recent event; he may have been dead a decade 
or more. And Meineke’s calculation is based upon the 
assumption of a life of only sixty years, though Aristo- 
phanes seems rather to emphasize his advanced age: €émi 
ynpws, ov yap ed’ nBys, eteBANAn mpcaBityns wv. These uncertain 
data could therefore readily be reconciled with a floruit 
(40 years) before 460, birth before 500. Brinck, Inscrip- 
tiones Graecae ad choregiam pertinentes, p. 170, places his 
birth ca. 495. 


18It may be of interest to name the principal repre- 
sentatives of each of these three groups. The following 
list is by no means exhaustive: 

(1) MEINEKE, Hist. crit. (1889), p. 27: if Suidas s. v. 
Xwvtéys is right, Chionides would be earlier than Myllus, 
ete. But Aristotle regards Chionides and Magnes as the 
earliest poets of literary comedy in Attica. BERNHARDY, 
Grundriss der griechischen Litteratur, Th. II (1845), pp. 942, 
945 and ad Suid. s. v. Xwyviéns. LORENZ, Leben und Schriften 
des Coers Epicharmos (1864), pp. 52 ff Lorenz was 
influenced to abandonthe altogether reasonable explana- 
tion, which he works out in detail, by Meineke’s objection 
concerning Myllus, Euetes, etc., and by the suspicious cir- 
cumstance that Suidas groups three Sicilian and five Attic 


The prevalent view today is that of Meineke, who placed 


comic poets in the 73d Olympiad. WrnAmow1tTz, “ Die 
megarische Komddie,”’ Hermes, Vol. IX (1875), pp. 340 ff., 
denounces any attempt to combine Suidas with Aristotle as 
“bare Unkritik,” for the source of Suidas was an unscru- 
pulous champion of the claims of Attic comedy against the 
Sicilian. This view is reasserted in ‘‘Die Bihne des 
Aischylos,”” Hermes, Vol. XXTI (1886), p. 613, and is taken for 
granted in Homerische Untersuchungen (1884), p. 248, note 
13, and in the Herakles, Vol. I (1889), p. 50. Lo, ‘* Ein 
Sieg des Magnes,”’ Rhein. Mus., Vol. XX XIII (1878), pp. 189 
ff. KarpeL, Pauly-Wissowa Realencyclopddie, s. v. Chion- 
ides (1899): The error of Suidas can be explained only on 
the assumption that the passage in Aristotle was carelessly 
read! KirRcHNER, Prosopographia Attica, s. vv. Xwwvidys 
and Mayvys: The Suidas notice is omitted altogether from 
the testimonia on Chionides. 

(2) MEINEKE objected to GrysAr’s chronology on the 
ground that it placed Epicharmus oAcyw, not ToAAg@, mporepos. 
This seems to have led CrorseT and others to approve of 
the textual change; cf. Histotre de la littérature grecque, 
Vol. IIT2 (1899), p. 433, note 2. I have already referred to the 
view of DENIS, whose interpretation amounts to a textual 
change. It is hard to see what BeLocH would do with the 
Aristotle passage, for he thinks that Epicharmus was very 
young when he came to Syracuse and that he lived many 
years after Hieron; cf. Griechische Geschichte, Vol. I, p. 
577, note 1. 

(3) Haren, Attic Theatre? (1898), pp. 80 f., 41, assumes 
that there were regular contests under state auspices as 
early as 487, believing so exact a statement as that of Suidas 


264 


EpWARD Capps 








the floruit of Epicharmus in the 73d Olympiad, that of Chionides and Magnes in 
the 80th. 

Much as we may admire the ingenuity displayed by some of the greatest scholars 
of our time in getting rid of the contradiction which they have felt between Suidas and 
Aristotle—from Meineke’s quiet rejection of the troublesome notice, to Wilamowitz’s 
sleuth-like detection of the forger, and Kaibel’s gentle correction of a bit of carelessness 
in translation—on sober reflection it seems well-nigh incredible, and by no means 
creditable to our modern scholarship, that any difficulty should have been found, in the 
first place, in the straightforward notices with which we are dealing, and that the error 
in reasoning should have persisted so long, especially since there have not been wanting 
all these years a few scholars who have found no difficulties in the way of a natural 
and satisfactory interpretation. I refer particularly to F. A. Wolf, Clinton, and Bergk.” 
The trouble has been, mainly, the failure to recognize the absolute necessity of 
assuming, from the words of Aristotle, that Epicharmus was a Megarian and first won 
distinction at Megara.” 
Syracuse” would have suited his argument as well as Megara; he would scarcely have 
gone out of his way to mention the Megarians had not the literary comedy of the 
Sicilians originated among them.” The second source of the prevalent error has been 
the mechanical and somewhat unintelligent use of the data furnished by the chronog- 
raphers. Anonymous uses the term yéyove, which often is the equivalent of HK MaceETO.”’ 
Now it is a familiar fact that the a«u7 of a person was preferably fixed with reference to 
some important event in his career (éyvop (lero) —e. g., Solon’s by his legislation —though 
more frequently by reference to persons or events in a general way contemporary —e. @., 
so many years before the Persian Wars. We are fortunate in the case of Epicharmus 
in that Suidas records the fact which determined the 73d Olympiad as an epoch 


Aristotle was speaking only of the claims of the Dorians, and 


GrysARr, De Doriensium comoedia (1828), 


s. Vv. Xwvidys trustworthy. But he inclines to the opinion 
that his exhibitions were at the Lenaea. BEeRGK at one time 
held a similar view, but he was at least logical, holding that 
these early productions at the Lenaea were unofficial, repre- 
senting the crude stage of comedy which Aristotle passed 
over as unliterary; cf. ‘“ Verzeichnisse der Siege dramat- 
ischer Dichter in Athen,” Rhein. Mus., Vol. XXXIV (1879), 
p. 320. He later abandoned this view, which rested upon a 
strange misconception of the status of the dramatic exhi- 
bitions at the two festivals, in favor of a natural interpre- 
tation both of Aristotle and of the other notices; Griech. 
Litteraturgesch., Vol. IV (1887, posthumous), pp. 24, 46. 


19 WoLF, Prolegomena ad Homerum (1795), p. 69, note 34 
(quoted by Lorenz): ‘‘ Utrumque (é. e.. Chionidem et Mag- 
netem) autem pluribus annis praegressa est comoedia Grae- 
corum Siciliensium, ab Ephicharmo, sinutus veterum recte 
assequor, perscripta iam ante Gelonis tyrannidem.” CLIN- 
TON, Fasti Hellenici (1827), Vol. II, sub an. 500: ““Epicharmus 
perfected comedy in Sicily long before Chionides exhibited 
at Athens, and continued to exhibit comedy in the reign of 
Hiero;” sub an. 487: ‘‘Chionides first exhibits.” BERGE, 
Griech. Litteraturgesch., Vol. IV, p. 24: ‘“‘ Epicharmos hatte 
damals (at his remoyal to Syracuse) wohl bereits die 
Schwelle des Greisenalters erreicht; und sich als Lustspiel- 
dichter einen allgemein geachteten Namen erworben;”’ cf. 


a 


« 


p. 24, note 15. 
seems to have perceived the correct relationship of the 
three poets, but to have aimed at too great precision as to 
dates, e. g., fixing Epicharmus’s first exhibition in the year 
494-3. I have not been able to see this work. 

20A point properly emphasized again by POPPELREUTER, 
De comoediae Atticae primordiis (Berlin, 1893), p. 17, note. 

21 Since Epicharmus became a Syracusan, it is not sur- 
prising that nothing is said by the Syracusans themselves 
about his and comedy’s Megarian origin; cf. the epigrams 
in his honor, one by Theocritus, the other quoted by Diog. 
Laert., VIII, 3; or that some one should have said of him 
(apud Suidam), ds edpe Thy kwuwdiay ev Supaxovaoats ana Popuw, 

221t is hard to see how BERNHARDY’s assertion that the 
claim rested ‘‘ bloss auf seine Personlichkeit ”’ can be recon- 
ciled with Aristotle, even if we reject the notice of Suidas 
on Chionides; cf. Grundr. d. griech. Litt., Th. IT, p. 902. 

23 ROHDE concludes, as the result of his valuable study, 
‘*Téyove in der Biographica des Suidas,” Rhein. Mus.,N F., 
XXXIII (1878), p. 165: ‘‘In der ungeheueren Mehrzah] der 
Falle Suidas bezeichnet (by yéyove) nicht das Geburtsjahr, 
sondern die Zeit in welche der wichtigste Theil des Lebens 
eines Schriftstellers fallt.’’ The usage of Suidas may be 
assumed for Anonymous, for the meaning éyevy79y is of 
course excluded. 


65 


8 Tue INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE CiTy DIonysIA 





date—jwv Sidaccov év Lvpaxovoas. This in turn was known, not by the existence 
of didascalic records from Syracuse—the source of such notices concerning Athenian 
poets—but because the destruction of Megara oecurred ca. 483, before which time 
Epicharmus must have taken up his residence at the Sicilian capital. Another 
epoch date of Epicharmus, 472, is known from the Parian Marble, and it is just as 
good as the other, though we do not know just the event which determined it. In fact, 
the chronographers give, if they can, no less than four epoch dates for each great 
dramatic poet—birth, first appearance, first victory, and death—and as many others 
as the peculiar circumstances of the subject suggest. It is an obvious error in method, 
therefore, to seize upon one particular epoch date in the life of EKpicharmus, assume 
that it is a fixed point in his life, like his birth date, assume further that it is the 
epoch which formed the point of departure for Aristotle’s 7oAX@ mpotepos, and to make 
the chronology of Chionides and Magnes square with these assumptions. In fact, with 
Aristotle’s reference to the Megarians and Suidas’s notice about Chionides to guide us, 
and in default of contradictory evidence, we must accept the sane and convincing con- 
clusion of Bergk: ‘Alle drei sind Zeitgenossen; nur geht Epicharmos an Jahren wie 
an Werken voran.”” 

2. The beginning of the official records.——The way is now prepared for the con- 
sideration of the passage from the fifth chapter of the Poetics, quoted at the beginning 
of this paper, in the light of its context. We shall learn from it to appreciate the full 
significance of the first granting of a comic chorus by the archon, the reason why so 
much importance is attached to the exact time of the activity of Chionides and Magnes, 
and why a solution so simple as that outlined above has, through the influence of 
oe rote, been felt to be unsatisfactory by a majority of scholars. 

After having discussed in the preceding chapter the important changes through 
which tragedy had passed before reaching maturity, Aristotle proceeds to comedy:” 

Though the various steps in the development of tragedy, and the persons responsible for 
them, are still remembered, yet in the case of comedy, since no attention was paid to it at the 
beginning, they have been forgotten. For it was not until a relatively late time that the 
archon granted a chorus of comic performers. Before that time they had volunteered their 
services.” And comedy had already taken ona more or less definite form at the time when the poets 


2%This is generally agreed upon; the difference in xopevrai, have failed to recognize the generic term in the 


opinion is as to his age at the time; and Aristotle ought to 
settle that. 
25 Griech. Litteraturgesch., Vol. IV, p. 24, note 15. 
261449, 85: ai meév obv Tis Tpaywdias petaBacers Kal bu dv 
éyévovtTo ov AcAnPacw, 7 SE Kwpwdia dca TO wH orovdagerOa ef 
kal yap xopov kwuwhav oe moTe 0 apywy edwKev, 
adr’ éBeAovTai Foav, 


apxns edafev, 
yon 5€ oxnmata Twa avTis Exovons ot 
Acyouevot aris Total wynovevovTat, Tis de mpoowma anebwxev 
i mpodAoyov H ANON WroKptt@y Kai boa ToLavTa, HyvonTat, TO dé 
pwudous rove "Emixapmos Kai Popucs, To pev ef apyns Ek LuKeALas 
HAVe, Tav be APjvnot Kparyns mpwros hptev apemevos THs (auBuxns 
iSdas KabdAov mroceiy Adyous Kai uvOous, 

27 That is, ot komo, all who took part in the presenta- 
tion of a kwuwdia, Those who have assumed a constructio ad 
sensum, understanding, as subject of }oav, oi xopnyot or ot 


formal phrase xopov xwxwdav, familiar enough in such 
phrases as Tots tpaywéSots, ‘Yat the time of the tragic per- 
formers.” The person to whom the archon granted a 
chorus was the é:dacxados, All who were trained by him 
were xwpwdot. The didascalus was himself one of the 
xwpwdoi in the early period. The distinction between actors 
and chorus in both tragedy and comedy was relatively late. 
Aristotle can use roxpirai for all who engage in a dramatic 
performance; cf. Poet., 1459b, 26, and FLICKINGER, 
“The Meaning of éxi tis oxynvis in Writers of the Fourth 
Century,” Decennial Publications of the University of Chi- 
cago, First Series, Vol. VI, p. 10. The suggestion ot xopnyor 
(Stank, SuSPMIHL) overlooks the fact that the choregia 
was a democratic institution, not antedating the reforms 
of Cleisthenes. But surely there were comic é@cAovrai be- 
fore then. 


266 


EDWARD CAPpPs 9 








mentioned are recorded. But no one knows who was responsible for mp4cwra, prologue, number 
of actors, ete. Crates was the first Athenian to give up the /ayfixh 6éa and to use consistent plots, 
following the example of the Sicilians, Epicharmus and Phormis.” 

In this passage Aristotle confines himself to Attic comedy, shaping his account of 
it by the account just given of Attic tragedy. He knows certain important facts in the 
history of tragedy which he cannot give for comedy, and explains the reasons for his 
ignorance. We must assume that these reasons were satisfactory to his Athenian 
hearers, 7. e., that they really explained both his accurate knowledge of tragedy, on 
the one hand, and, on the other, his ignorance of comedy down to a certain point, and 
his better information after that time. 
closely into the matters concerning which he is well informed, to ascertain the full 
significance of the reasons assigned for his ignorance. 

All are agreed that of Aeyeuevor 7rounTat must mean Chionides and Magnes”’—the 
poets whose very names stood for a certain well-defined stage in the development of 
comedy, for the first real Attic comedy. But what is the meaning of pvynpovevovtar? 
Does it refer simply to an oral tradition—‘“erwahnt werden,” ‘‘on commence & 
nommer’’?” Or is it an allusion to pryjyata of some kind, readily understood by the 
Athenian? Observe that a definite point of time is suggested by the occurrence of 
the names of these two poets. 


We should therefore be able, by inquiring 


They were either ‘‘mentioned”’ with reference to certain 
datable events, or “recorded” under a specific year or period. Were others mentioned 
or recorded before them, or were theirs the earliest names? The answer to these 
questions depends upon the settlement of certain other questions first. 

It is clear that the granting of a comic chorus by the archon was an outward sign 
that the period of indifference (ov« éo7ovddfero) with respect to comedy was then at 
an end, so far as the state was concerned. Did Aristotle from that time on have com- 
plete knowledge of the development of comedy? If so, why does he not frankly state 
that at this time comedy had passed through such and such stages of those mentioned 
in the account of tragedy, instead of employing the vague phrase oyjuata twa? Of 
course, after the state recognition of comedy the official didascalic records were avail- 


28In view of the vast influence which the views of WIL- 
AMOWITzZz have exercised in the interpretation of this pas- 
sage, I append his paraphrase of the passage in full. And 
I may take this opportunity to acknowledge my own in- 
debtedness to this scholar, ‘der gelehrteste der Hellenen” 
of modern times, for inspiration and guidance at every 
point in my study of this subject, though [am unable to 
follow him in his principal conclusions. Though he has 
adhered consistently, from ‘'Die megarische Komddie” to 
the Herakles, to this interpretation of Aristotle and to 
about 465 as the epoch date of comedy, it is possible that he 
has since modified his views, though I have searched his 
recent writings in vain for an indication of the fact. 

‘‘ Die megarische Komddie,’’ Hermes, Vol. IX (1875), p. 
332: Aristotle says, speaking of Attic comedy, ‘sie sei 
zundchst, da Niemand sich ernstlich um sie bekfiimmert, 
unbekannt geblieben. Erst spat habe der Staat sie in die 
Hand genommen, und die Dichter, die man anfihre, wirden 
erst in einer Zeit erw4hnt, wo sich gewisse Formen festge- 


setzt hatten. Denn Niemand wisse, wer die Prologe,” ete. 
He then sums up as follows: ‘Also: erst gibt es die 
Aeyouevoe mountai, dann erhalt die Komddie die Staatscon- 
cession, dann ist sie iambisch, .. . . dann kommt Krates.” 
Note that the sentence ris 6€ . . . . #yvonrac is made causal 
in this version, and that the causal relation of xat yap 
xopov «xrA, is disregarded. 


29 All, I mean, who accept the text. USENER’s oA‘yor pev 
(after CASTELVETRO’S OACyot weév oi), which has found fayor 
with some scholars, entirely reverses the order of the argu- 
ment, and leaves us with a reason which explains nothing. 
Aristotle’s ignorance of the details of the development of 
comedy would obviously not be explained in the least by 
the fact that “the names of only a few parts of the early 
period are still remembered.’ Nor is a ev needed to 
balance the ris 5¢ following. The adversative is required 
by the argument. 


30 Dents, La comédie grecque, Vol. I, p. 6. 


267 


10 Tue INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City Dionysia 





able, but they gave only the names of the contestants and choregi and the titles of the 
plays; at this period probably not even the titles.” How then did Aristotle know any- 
thing about the status of comedy at this time, even enough to warrant the assertion of 
oxnmata twa? The texts of the plays of Epicharmus, probably from the time of his 
residence in Syracuse, were preserved; but if Aristotle had possessed the texts of the 
Attic poets he would have had more exact information than he gives evidence of hay- 
ing. For the statement oy7pata twa, however, the texts were not needed; Aristotle 
might easily have inferred this much from the very fact that the state had given its 
And this would fully explain the indefiniteness of the phrase. 
The peta8doeas which Aristotle records for tragedy are: AO vroxpiT@y and the 
The data 
for his statements concerning them could have been derived from the tragic texts 
I should include even oxnvoypadgia, for it seems hardly possible that the 
official records of the contests should have covered matters theatrical,” while, on the 
other hand, this important innovation must have had an immediate and striking effect 
It is to be noted that he does 
Since we have one play of Aeschylus 
that goes back to about a decade from the time of his first appearance, and the intro- 
duction of the second actor was probably not coincident with his first appearance, we 
have no reason to doubt that Aristotle had in the tragic texts extant in his day an 
unbroken line of testimony from the time of this innovation. In tragedy, therefore, 
the period of indifference, not necessarily on the part of the state, but on the part of the 
public, shown by the non-publication of the tragedies exhibited, did not extend beyond 
the early years of Aeschylus.” In comedy it extended likewise down to the time of the 
We have seen that this was probably some time after the first 
granting of a comic chorus. We shall be able to define this time more closely. 

Now in spite of the fact that Aristotle, at the very outset of his account of comedy, 
makes a sweeping acknowledgment of his ignorance in respect of the various pera- 
Baces through which it had passed, he yet later on specifies three particular details 
upon which he has no information: tpécwra, mporoyos, TAHOn Uroxpitav. Of course 


sanction to comedy. 
attendant changes, oxnvoypadia, wéyeOos, NEE, weTpov, TANOn errecodion, 
alone. 


upon the inner economy and technique of the plays. 
not mention any innovations before Aeschylus. 


first published plays. 


31 To judge by the use of ‘‘xwuwdia” instead of the title 
in the case of the earliest events mentioned in Insc. Graec. 
Sic. et Ital., 1097 (CIG I, 229). 


the autoschediastic stage, and was the first sign of the 
attainment of a certain literary form, oxjuaTa twa; from 
that time to the introduction of the second actor by 
Aeschylus, as in comedy down to Cratinus, a period of 
more rapid development, but still the absence of literary 
quality and the non-publication of the texts. The scheme 
may be true enough in general outline, but it would 


32 WILAMOWITZ, who believes that the state adoption of 
comedy, the increase of the actors in tragedy to three, 
and important changes in the arrangement of the theatre, 


were prescribed by a vopuos Atovvaraxds about 465, includes 
also oxnvoypadia; cf. ‘* Die Bihne des Aischylos,’”’ Hermes, 
Vol. XXI (1886), p. 613, and Herakles, Vol. I (ed. 1), p. 50. 
I agree with A. MugELLER, Philologus, Supplbd. VI (1891), 
p. 89,and BoDENSTEINER, Bursians Jahresber., Vol. CVI 
(1901), p. 138, that such matters as improvements in staging 
would not have been prescribed by a law. 


33It would be natural to assume from the text of 
Aristotle that the granting of a chorus by the state marked 
the time of the emergence of tragedy, as of comedy, from 


be unsafe to extend the phrase xopoy 6 apxwy édwxev to 
tragedy as an epoch date in the same sense in which it 
was the epoch date for comedy, for it is hardly possible 
that the choregic system implied in these words antedated 
the reforms of Cleisthenes. The dithyrambic contests of 
men’s choruses in 509/8, archon Lysagoras (see MUNRO, 
“The Parian Marble,” Class. Rev., Vol. XV (1901), p. 357), 
was before the first choregia. Recognition by the state 
before the choregia, if there was such a recognition, took 
another form, 


268 


EDWARD Capps 11 





he was uninformed about these for the same reason as about the others—because the 
texts of the period in which these changes were accomplished were no longer extant. 
Why, then, does he single out these three details, one of which was included among 
the weraBaces of tragedy? Evidently because they were not sufficiently covered by 
the preceding explanation of his ignorance— because, in his opinion, they fell in the 
period after the state concession and the ‘mentioning’ 
By glancing again at the history of tragedy we shall see the significancé of this 


> of Chionides and Magnes.” 


passage. 

Sophocles is credited with the introduction of the third actor. The change was 
not accomplished in 467 (Septem),” but it was in 458 (Oresteia). Now it is incredible 
that the number of actors should have been fixed in comedy before it was in tragedy, 
though the improvement was probably adopted immediately.” Now since, as we shall 
be able to prove later on from the inscriptions, the adoption of comedy by the state was 
certainly prior to 467 (or even to 471, the first appearance of Sophocles),” this inno- 
vation was made after this epoch. It is clear from this that Aristotle had no comic 
texts for a considerable period after the first granting of the chorus,” and that the 
period of public indifference to comedy extended for a considerable time after the end 
of the indifference of the state. This is an important result, for it permits us to fix 
the epoch date 6 dpyev exer, which was a matter of official record, without reference 
to Aristotle’s personal knowledge of comic texts, which is a matter of a very different 
nature. We now know for a certainty, what was only a surmise before, that Aristotle’s 
knowledge of the status of comedy (oy7paTa twa) at the time of its recognition by 
the state was based wholly upon the fact of its recognition. Further, the period 
of cyjpatad twa and pvnmovevortat is synchronous with that expressed by 6 apyov 
éwxev."’ Chionides and Magnes “are mentioned” at the time of the first official con- 


34 WILAMOWITZ, Hermes, Vol. XXI, p. 614, note 1, and 37 Euseb., vers. Arm., and Hieron., sub Ol. 772. On the 


SusemiuL, loc. cit., p. 200, reached just the opposite con- 
clusion— that the state concession antedated the employ- 
ment of three actors in tragedy; for, they argue, if this 
innovation in comedy came after the granting of a chorus, 
Aristotle would have known who was responsible for it. 
But this assumes that information about such matters 
was deriyed from the state records, not from the texts, 
which both agree were not published until later; and this 
assumption is altogether improbable. And if the three- 
actor stage had been reached ca, 465, how comes it that the 
earliest play of Cratinus of which we know employed only 
two actors, as KArBeL has shown, “Die ‘Odveons von 
Kratinos und der KvxAwf des Euripides,’’ Hermes, Vol. 
XXIV, p. 82? SuSEMIHL’s explanation that this was ‘‘an 
exception ” does not seem to me valid, 


35 T accept the opinion of the majority, that the exodos 
in our text is spurious. 

36 T do not mean tocommit myself here to the view that 
comedy went through the same process as tragedy, gradu- 
ally increasing the actors from one to three, On the con- 
trary, 1 cannot understand its development from the kaos 
except on the supposition of a large number of performers 
gradually reduced, so far as it ever was reduced, to the 
norm of tragedy. 


whole, this seems more likely to be true than Plutarch’s 
statement which synchronizes his first victory in 468 with 
his first appearance; Cimon, 8. 

38 WILAMOWITZ, Hermes, Vol. IX, has convincingly 
demonstrated, on other grounds, the fact that Aristotle 
had no comic texts before Cratinus. But when he says, 
p. 335: ‘Die Kunde fiber die attische Komddie die der 
gelehrteste der Hellenen besass, reichte nicht tiber die 
sechszigen,’ we must now qualify the statement some- 
what; he had the didascaliae. WILAMOWITzZ, it is true, 
believed that the state concession was made in the sixties 
(465-460), getting at this date by the process: the granting 
of the chorus was much later than Epicharmus; epoch of 
Epicharmus, the reign of Hieron, 478-467, The error here 
is, of course, the selection of precisely this date as the one 
which proved to Aristotle the priority of Epicharmus over 
Chionides and Magnes. 


39 My interpretation differs radically from that of WIL- 
AMOWITZ at this point. He sets the state concession after 
the Acyouevor rorya, i. €., makes the on éamovdagero period 
coextensive with the é@cAovrai period. It totally changes 
the logic of Aristotle’s thought to make the sentence tis &€ 
. ++. #yvontat causal, I leave my exposition to speak for 
itself. 


269 


12 Tur INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City Dionysia 





tests, Chionides, we should suppose, in connection with the very first. They were 
among the first comic poets of Attica whose claim to be poets in the true sense of the 
word was sanctioned by the state itself. Aristotle assumes to possess no direct and 
personal knowledge of the literary merits of their productions; it was enough for him 
that the state had deemed them worthy. We can no longer be in doubt as to the 
exact meaning of pvnpovevovtar; the official didascalic wvjpata were the only source 
which could furnish both their names and their date in relation to the first official 
comic contests.” There were, of course, other poets mentioned in the early comic did- 
ascaliee; these two are selected as the most representative of the number. 

The phrase oé vote is not so vague and baffling as before, now that we 
know positively that Aristotle could have given the exact year had he desired. It is, 
of course, used with reference to tragedy, but since we do not know precisely what 
period Aristotle had in mind for tragedy—its admission into the Dionysia under 
Peisistratus, or the establishment of the tragic choregia under the new democracy — 
it is useless to indulge in speculation as to the exact number of years the phrase 
would require.” It may be that we should interpret oyé in terms of development 
rather than of years; comedy had reached a state of greater maturity when taken in 
charge by the state than had tragedy when it was so adopted. In any event, we are 
no longer obliged to seek a date as late as possible, influenced by oyé wove combined 
with 7oAA@ potepos; for the date of Hpicharmus’s reputation as a comic poet at Megara 
may be as early as the epoch date of tragedy.” We have learned, moreover, that the 
epoch date of comedy was derived from the Athenian didascalic records, and that, in 
trying to recover it, we are not to be influenced by what we know of the non-publication 
of the early comedies. The records contained the names of Chionides and Magnes, 
among others, at or near the beginning of the lists which reported the contests in which 
comedy had a part. If we had access to the original didascalic documents themselves, 
we should at once look for the names of these two poets, assured that the admission of 
comedy into the festival programme dated not far from the year of their first appear- 
ance. Now the notice of Suidas, which reports Xvwvidns édi6ackev for 488 or 487, may 
At any rate there is now no 
chronological obstacle in the way of such an assumption, and the notice on the face of 
it appears to be as trustworthy as any of the didascalic information furnished by Suidas.* 
It is hard to account for it, besides, on any other hypothesis—plain error, forgery, or 
stupid translation of Aristotle. But for the present we would best reserve our final 


possibly go back to an excerpt from these didascaliz. 


40 SUSEMIHL, loc. cit., p. 199, saw this, but did not make 
the application: ‘‘ergo hi duo poetae antiquissimi erant, 
quorum nomina in indicibus victoriarum philosophus 
invenit et ex eis haud dubie in Didascalias suas reciperat.” 

41\Compare 7 Adéts .. . . OWe awecveuvvOy in the account 
of tragedy. We must agree with HritLEr, Rhein. Mus., 
XXXIX (1884), p. 338, that the tragedies of Phrynichus and 
Aeschylus were already ceuvai as regards Aééts; but opinions 
will differ as to whether the period of Aééts yeAota must, on 
account of the o¥é, be placed before Thespis. 


42The equation set up by WILAMOWTTZ, 6 apxwv éSwxev 
“lange nach Epicharm,”’ therefore, only adds one more 
unknown quantity ; cf. ‘Die Biihne des Aischylos,”’ Hermes, 
Vol. XXT (1886), p. 613. 

43 Though many errors have crept into the text, yet one 
ean, in general, agree with BeRGK’s verdict, Rhein. Mus., 
N.F., Vol. XXXIV (1879), p. 318, note 1: ‘‘Die Angaben 
des Suidas tiber die dramatischen Dichter verdienen im 
Allgemeinen yolles Vertrauen, denn sie gehen auf Didas- 
kalien zuriick.”’ 


270 


EDWARD Capps 13 





opinion upon this point until we have examined the valuable fragments of Athenian 
didascaliz preserved to us on stone. 

In view of the facts thus elicited we may, by way of summary, paraphrase the 
argument of Aristotle as follows: The various steps in the development of comedy, 
such as have been traced for tragedy, are beyond our knowledge, because comedy was 
not an object of serious attention at first. No facts, naturally, are recorded for the 
period of volunteer performances, which preceded the appointment of comic choregi by 
the state, and this event was rather late as compared with tragedy. At this time, 
when we meet in the official records of the comic contests the names of Chionides 
and Magnes, who have already been mentioned as the earliest representatives of a 
literary comedy in Attica, comedy must already have taken on a more or less definite 
form to have obtained this recognition. But no one knows who was responsible for 
certain important innovations which must have been introduced after the admission 
of comedy into the festivals ; for the plays produced in this period were not published, 
that is, the indifference of the public still continued. We do know, however, that 
Crates was the first at Athens to follow the lead of Epicharmus in the matter of plots, etc. 


THE EVIDENCE FROM INSCRIPTIONS 


We are fortunate in possessing a number of fragments of a series of inscriptions, 
which, taken together, originally constituted a complete record of the dramatic contests 
at the City Dionysia and Lenaea. One inscription gave the contestants and the titles 
of their plays, arranged in the order of their success in the competitions. Another 
gave the names of the poets, arranged chronologically, and under each name the titles 
of the plays brought out, at each of the festivals, the year, and the rank as fixed by 
the judges.” Still another reported year by year all the victors of every class—tribes 
and choregi for the lyric events, and poets, choregi, and actors for the dramatic contests 
of each festival. And, finally, a very extensive document in eight sections gave the 
names of the victorious poets and actors in tragedy and comedy for the two festivals 
separately, the names being arranged in the order of the first victories, with the total 
number of victories won. These remarkable documents, all derived from the archives 
of the state officials under whose supervision the contests were held, were inscribed 
early in the third century. They were, in all probability, transcribed from the works 
of Aristotle entitled AvSacxcaréat and Nixar Avovuctaxat Kai Anvakai, so far as they 
could be used, or, at any rate, were authorized by the state under the influence of 
Aristotle’s studies in this field.” 

Now, when we consider the wide publicity which the records of the Athenian 


44In four sections: (1) Dionysia, tragedy, CI A IT, 973, broken to furnish much specific information. The current 


(2) comedy, 975; (3) Lenaea, comedy, 972, (4) tragedy, 972. restorations are useless as sources of information. 
For the order, cf. my article ‘The Dating of Some Did- 46C TA II, 971, and LY, p. 218. The corresponding lists 
ascalic Inscriptions,” 4m. Jour. Arch., 2d Ser., Vol. IV for the Lenaea are not preserved. 
CELD) ast 47CIA II, 977, and IV, p. 220. 
45 Insc. Graec. Sic. et Ital., 1097, 1098. These fragments 48 WILAMOWITZ, Herakles, Vol. I (ed. 1), p. 50; but he 


embrace only the comic poets. The fragments are too sets the date of the inscriptions about fifty years too early. 
271 


14 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE CiTy DIONYSIA 





dramatic exhibitions enjoyed in antiquity, through both the works of Aristotle and 
these documents set up on the acropolis and in the precinct of the theatre of Dionysus, 
we are able not only better to understand how even minute details concerning the 
poets and the contests, such, for example, as the period of Euetes and the victories of 
Eudoxus, came to be known and mentioned by grammarians, biographers, and chro- 
nographers, but also to appreciate the chances in favor of the accuracy of information, 
not exactly didascalic, which is occasionally furnished; for example, that certain poets 
were contemporaries, as Aristophanes and Nicophon, Menander and Apollodorus of 
Gela, Chionides and Magnes. In spite of the epitomizing, paraphrasing, and formaliz- 
ing through which this material has gone, in spite of the manifold chances of error in 
transmission, the student in this field comes to have a profound respect for such notices 
scattered up and down Greek and Roman literature, feeling that in the end they 
probably go back to the infallible records of the Athenian archives, and that he should 
not reject them or attempt to correct them except upon evidence equally free from 
suspicion. 

Let us consider next some of the fragments of these inscriptions which throw 
light upon the period of the Old Comedy, in the hope of getting somewhat nearer to 
the epoch date that we are seeking. 

1. The catalogues of all the victors at the City Dionysia.—The name of Magnes, 
as victor in a comic contest at a time not far from the date of the admission of 
comedy into the state festivals, occurs in frag. a of the great catalogue of victors 
at the City Dionysia, CIA II, 971. This fragment does not contain a date line, 
but it was contiguous to frag. f, which does. Frag. a stood at the head of the 
first column of the second slab of the inscription; the exact position of frag. f is 
unknown. The attempt has repeatedly been made“ to determine the exact position of 
f in relation to a, and thus to ascertain the exact date of Magnes’s victory, but I have 
long been of the opinion that none of the conclusions reached by various scholars is 
possible, firstly, because they all disregard certain important epigraphical factors in the 
problem, and secondly, because they start with the assumption that Magnes could not 


49 Frag. a has been known since 1839 through its publica- choregiam pertinentes,’’ Diss. Hal., Vol. VII (1886), pp. 
tion by PrrraKts, but its importance was first recognized, 164 ff., A. Mue“ueEr, *“ Neuere Arbeiten aufdem Gebiete des 
after Leo, ‘‘Ein Sieg des Magnes,” Rhein. Mus., Vol. griechischen Bihnenwesens,’’ Philologus, Supplbd. VI 
XXXII (1878), pp. 139 ff., by KorHLErR, ‘*‘ Documente zur (1891), pp. 83ff., and BopDENSTEINER, “ Bericht fiber das 
Geschichte des athenischen Theaters,’ Ath. Mitth., Vol. antike Bihnenwesen,” Bursians Jahresber., Vol. CVI 
III (1878), pp. 104 ff., and Berek, ‘* Verzeichniss der Siege (1901), pp. 135 ff. Mention should also be made of the 
dramatischer Dichter in Athen,” Rhein. Mus., Vol. XXXIV elaborate but untrustworthy essay of ORHMICHEN, ‘*‘ Ueber 
(1879), pp. 330 ff. Frag. f was first published by GEorGIOS die Anfange der dramatischen Wettkampfe in Athen,” 
"Ed. "Apx., Vol. TV (1886), p. 267, and its significance at once  Sitzwngsber.d.k. bayer, Akad. d. Wiss. zu Miinchen, philos.- 
recognized by Lipstus, Sitzungsber. d. k. stichs. Gesell. c. philol. Classe, 1889, pp. 140 ff. Though the errors of Oeh- 
Wiss. zu Leipzig, philol.-histor. Classe (1887), pp. 278 ff. michen were promptly pointed out by Maller and later by 
Of the other fragments, g and h were published by LOLLING, Bodensteiner, they have continued to influence the views of 
Sitzungsber. d. k. k. Akad. d. Wiss. zu Berlin (1887), p. 1069; his colleague, WILHELM CuristT; cf. Gesch. d. gr. Litt., 3te 
b and d by KoeuuEr, Ath. Mitth., Vol. LIT (1878), pp. 104 ff. Aufl., p. 196, note 4, and p. 215, note 4. It is rather remarkable, 
What is knownas frag. e is a hopeless jumble taken from _ considering the attention paid to this inscription, that no 
the notes of Prrrakrs, and should not be counted as a one has hitherto made use of the later fragments in the 
document. Fragments a-e, C I A II, 971; f-h, IV, p. 218. attempt to solve the epigraphical questions which are all- 

The most important discussions of the epoch date of | important for the interpretation of the earlier, 
the inscription are: Brinck, “Inscriptiones Graecae ad 


272 


EDWARD Capps 





971la 
(O) INP LS Wy sh pay ZN xp A 9) 


=]ENOKAEIAHSEXOPHTE TTANAIONI[2ANA PQN ] 
MJAF NHSEAIAASKEN KAEAINET[O2EXOPHI El] 
TPATQIAQN KQMQIAQN 
TTEPIKAHSXOAAP: EXOPH 

Al2XYAOZE[A |IAASKEN 


971 f 
ETTIXAPHTOS] (472/1) [TPATQIAQN] 
MR oe ee eG CR Shiels : EXOPH 
MMe at ica 36 EAIAASKEN BIQ 
o Oactoi geen Raia ETTIPIAJOKAEOYS = (459/78) KQM[QIAQN 
6. cc eg ROOMS AI|NHISTTAIAQN ANA 
KQMQIAQN] AHMOAOKOZEXOPHIE KAA[AIAS -° 
5 GOO Romane OPHTI El ITTTTOOQNTISANA PQN TPA[TQIAQN 
eee SEAIA|ASKEN! EYKTHMQNEAEY : EXOPH OA 
TPAFQIAQN] KQMQIAQN KA[ PKINO3® 
5 On Rone OR ORG EX]OPHT El EYPYKAEIAHSEXOPHT El YTT[OKPITH8 - - 
TIOAY PPASZMQ]|NEAIAAS? EYPPONIOSEAIAASKE ETT[IKAAAIMAXOY® 
ETMIMTPA=IEPPO]Y* (471/0) TPATQIAQN (4467/5) 
ITITTOOQNTISTTAJIAQN * =ENOKAHSA$IANA : EXOPH 
PHT El Al=XYAOSEAIAASKEN 
QN ETTIABPQNOS (458/7) 
OPH EPEXOHISTTAIAQN 
XAPIASAT PYAH: EXOPH 
El AEQNTISANAPQN 
AEINOSTPATOZEXOj PHI El 
KQMQIAQN 
OPHT 
1The name that follows Magnes in CIA II, 977i; see 4See p. 17. 
p. 29. 5 My restoration; cf. Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XX (1899), p. 
2Lipsius. 396, note 1. 
3My restoration, to be established in the following 6 Lipsius, 


discussion. 


273 


16 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City DionysiIA 





have exhibited before about the date at which Meineke placed his floruit. It will 
therefore be necessary to consider at considerable length all of the seven published 
fragments of this inscription. I regret that I shall not have the advantage of using 
the fragments still unpublished, announced by Dr. Adolph Wilhelm some years ago; 
but those which we possess will suffice for our present purpose.” I give first the text 
of the two earliest fragments. 

It will be seen that the complete record of each year, in frag. a and the first two 
columns of frag. f, occupies eleven lines, and that these lines always recur in the same 
order. In the third column of frag. f we notice the addition of a twelfth line, the 
victorious tragie actor—vtr[oxpitys 6 Sdeiva|. This recurs in all the later frag- 
ments. The only disturbance of this twelve-line record in the extant fragments is in 
the narrow outer column of the latest fragment, where two lines are sometimes required 
for a single entry, There may, of course, have been other disturbances in the portions 
now lost; for example, we might expect to find during the continuance of the syncho- 
regia (406/5 and some years thereafter)" two lines used for the two choregi of both 
tragedy and comedy. But for our present purpose we may treat the order and number 
of lines to the year as fixed for the entire inscription. 

In attempts to fix the date of the events in frag. a, col. 1, recourse has been had 
to general considerations based upon the choregia of Pericles for a play of Aeschylus, 
combined with the current view that Magnes could not have exhibited until about the 
middle of the sixties. We have already seen how uncertain the data are upon which 
the opinion about Magnes rests; as to Pericles, the idea that he would have been too 
young to undertake a choregia before ca. 467 is the result of guesswork rather than of 
evidence.” The only trustworthy means available for prosecuting our inquiry to a 
certain conclusion—the restoration of the date-lines in the first columns of fragments 
f and e, using one as a check on the other—has been overlooked entirely, chiefly, it 
would seem, because of the fixed idea concerning the lateness of Magnes and the official 
adoption of comedy, and also partly, no doubt, because of certain difficulties in the way 
of any consistent reconstruction of the inscription as a whole, due to misleading or 
incorrect reports in the Corpus as to the condition of fragments g and e. Obviously 

50The main outlines of this study were worked out 
some five years ago; cf. Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XX (1899), p. 
388. I visited Athens in the spring of 1899 chiefly for the 
purpose of examining the stones, especially to clear away marking the entry of a person upon his political career. 
some doubts about KoEHLER’s reports on certain frag- Partly as the result of Kohler’s interpretation, and partly 
ments; see below, p. 19 (g) and p. 22 (e, col. 2). It was on — owing to WILAMOwrITz’s (Hermes, Vol. IX, p. 337) idea that 
the strength of my conviction regarding this inscription the recognition of comedy was one of the events charac- 
that I assumed ca, 140 lines also for C TA II, 972; cf, Amer. teristic of the first years of the dominant influence of Peri- 
Jour. Arch.,2d Ser., Vol IV (1900), pp. 76, 86. cles, one finds here and there an amazing misconception of 

51 Of. my article,“ The DramaticSynchoregiaat Athens,’ the choregia; ¢.g., Dents, La comédie grecque, Vol. I, p. 
Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XVII (1896), pp. 319 ff. 121, note 2: ‘Périclés avait besoin de munificences person- 
nelles pour gagner le peuple et pour se l’attacher;” and 
Cova, Aristophane, p. 22: “C’était le moment ot Périclds 
allait briser la puissance de l’aristocratie en dépouillant 


VAréopage de ses priviléges. Il se peut qu'il ait voulu 
alors faire servir la comédie & ses desseins.” 


274 


the citizen—a tax on the wealthy—not voluntarily as- 
sumed, as a rule, and could hardly have been interpreted 
by Theopompus, or whoever was the source of Plutarch, as 


527t is now generally admitted that the combination 
upon which Korner (after Leo) based his theory of 63 
lines has no foree. Plutarch’s ‘forty years of public life” 
has to be taken as a round number (Pericles, 16), and the 
choregia is misconstrued. It was an obligation put upon 


EDWARD Capps 


17 





the inscription must, if possible, be interpreted and restored epigraphically, by strict 
adherence to all the indications furnished by the stones themselves, before we allow 
ourselves to be influenced overmuch by the chronological consequences involved. 

That the number of lines to the column in the portion under the heading was 
three lines less than a multiple of eleven, 7. ¢., 41, 52, 63, etc., is obvious from the fact 
that the eleventh line in any year in col. 1 is opposite the eighth in col. 2. The lower 
limit can be fixed by reference to the actors’ contest recorded in col. 3 of frag. f. The 
fifth line of the year (Biw-) in this column is now found to be opposite the eleventh 
(the tragic poet) in the preceding column. The twelve-line record has therefore already 
occurred three times before the current year, 7. e., the contest of tragic actors was 
introduced just four years before the year of the lost archon in col. 3. If the new 
contest was introduced in the earliest possible year, in the archonship of Habron 
(458/7), the lost archon of col. 3 was of the year 454/3, and the column contained 
four full years of twelve lines plus four lines, 7.e., 52 lines.” 
have been less than 52, but it may have been indefinitely more.” 
eleven lines the date of the first actors’ contest, of course, is later by one year, 7. e., if 
the column contained 63 lines it would be 457/6, 74 lines 456/5, 140 lines 450/49. 

We may now take up col. 1 of frag. f. Lipsius observed that the name of the 
victorious tragic poet must have been unusually long, to judge by the position of its 
final letter -v. We notice too that the heading tpayedav is entirely broken away — 
another indication that the lost name was at least eleven letters long. There can be no 
question as to the correctness of Lipsius’s restoration | Hlorudpac pe | v, especially since 
his name happens to be preserved on the list of victorious tragic poets, CIA IT, 977a, 
between Aeschylus and Sophocles. The tribe Hippothontis is the only one that will 
fit the space below the archon’s name. With the knowledge thus gained we look over 
the list of the archons of this period. There are only five names between Tlepolemus, 
of the year 463/2 (requiring 52 lines) and Praxiergus, of 471/0 (140 lines), whose names 
meet at all satisfactorily the conditions of space and genitive-ending. I give them in 


It could not possibly 
For every additional 


juxtaposition : 

Archons Year Lines 

(TTOAYP?PASMQN) 
ETTITAHTTOAEMOY 463/2 52 
APXIAHMIAOY 4164/3 63 
AY2I|STPATOY 467/6 96 
OEAT ENIAOY 468/7 107 
WPASINEIP IT OV 471/70 140 


(ITTTTOOQNTISTTAI-) 


53 OFHMICHEN, it is true, assumes 30 lines, making the 


’ 


fuse to consider. MUELLER’s dates for the actors’ contest 


first actors’ contest that which happens to be recorded in 
col. 3, or one year before. But this leaves him with two 
or three unoccupied lines after Habron’s year, which he 
ean only account for by assuming the interpolation of 
some explanatory words about the actors’ contest—an 
expedient which MUELLER and BoDENSTEINER rightly re- 


(pp. 82 f.) are corrected by BODENSTEINER (p. 137). 

54 The notion that more than 63 lines would exceed the 
probable dimensions even of a large public inscription 
(BoDENSTEINER, p. 137) was clearly not advanced by an 
epigraphist; KOEHLER decided upon 63 only on account 
of Pericles. 


275 


18 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City DIONYSIA 





The position of the -Y in relation to the -N is correctly given in the copy on p. 15. 
Iota occupies less than (about one-half) the space of an ordinary letter, Q a little more. 
"Apyidnuidov and Avovotparov satisfy the space relations somewhat less satisfactorily 
than the other three names. Lysistratus and Theagenides may be regarded as some- 
what doubtful, besides, because of the possibility that another poet than Polyphrasmon 
was victorious in the tragic contest the year before each of them; Aeschylus brought 
out the Septem the year before Lysistratus, and won, and Sophocles’s first victory was 
won the year before Theagenides, almost certainly at the City Dionysia.” But in spite 
of these possible objections it would be safer to regard these five names for the present 
as all equally possible, and to seek in frag. e for the information by which we shall be 
able to eliminate all but one of them. 


971 e 
EJTIAPIST[O\PANOYE (3381/0) 
OINHISTTAIAQ(N 
ener TOS[AX]APN[ EYSEXOPH 
OR LN XE]XOPH' ITHTTOOQNTIZANAP[QN 
Tes ee EJAIA[AS]KE _... . OS[TT]EILPJAIE[YSEXOPH 
YITOKPITHSAJOHNOAQPOS [KQM]QIA[QN* 


ETISQSIFENO|YS (342/1) 
AIFHISTTAIAJON 
Nae hes 3 AIJOME[EYSEXOP]H TPAT JQ[IAQN 
ITTTTOOQNTIE JANAPQN 
_. . EKKOIJAHSEXOPH 


KQMQIAQN] 
sO Tee HS[EXOPH? 
TPATQIAQN] 
tee eee eee EX]OP|H 
ASTYAAMASEAIJA[ A2KEN* 
1 Equa (cdns)? 2-Ans or -dys. the position indieated we have a slight confirmation of 
3We know from CIA IT, 973, that Astydamas was the the restoration of Sosigenes. 
victorin 341. IfI rightly detect the faint outlines of a A in 4 Very faint traces. 


The archon Aristophanes was of the year 331/0. Since the restoration UroxpiTns 
in the first column is certain (for the word is never abbreviated in this inscription), the 
name of the archon just below, with the genitive-ending -ovs, was about ten letters in 
length. Now if we try here the several line-numbers shown to be possible by our 
consideration of frag. f, we find that only one archon of the five, the one representing 
a column of 140 lines, fulfils the conditions, as the following table will show: 


55 Plutarch, Cimon. & relates that the decision was archon, who was evidently, therefore, in charge of the 
committed to the ten generals by Apsephion, the first contest. 


276 


EDWARD Capps 19 





Lines Archons frag. e Year Archons frag. f 
(YTTOKPITHSAOH-) 
52 ETTITTYOOA HAOY 336/5 Tlepolemus 
63 &PYNIXOY 337/6 Archidemides 
96 AY2IMAXOY 339/8 Lysistratus 
107 OEOPPASTOY 340/39 Theogenides 
140 2QZITENOYS 342/1 Praxiergus 


There would seem to be no room for doubt that the name of Sosigenes is to be 
restored here and that of Praxiergus in frag. f, if we are right in assuming that the 
columns throughout the inscription contained the same, or nearly the same, number 
of lines. But this assumption may not be right, and so no conclusion can be accepted 
as final until it has been tested rigorously by the other fragments. 

Frag. h (see Plate IV, at the end of the article) also contains an archon’s name 
in its second column, Cephisophon of 3829/8, and broken line-ends in the first. Its 
position was near the top of the slab, for only two year-lists intervene between Aristo- 
phanes, about 17 lines from the bottom of col. 2 of e, and Cephisophon. The first 
column of hk therefore continued the first of e, and its second column the second of e. 
The exact interval can now be determined. The first line of the column in which was 
the first column of h was the twelfth line in the year of Sosigenes, and this is known 
from CIA II, 973—troxpitys NeomtoAeuos. There can be no doubt of the correctness 
of Kéhler’s restoration of -Aos in the third line of h, col. 1, as | broxperis Orta |dos. 
This line was therefore the 13th from the top, and @érraXos was in the last line of the 
year 8341/0. The name of Cephisophon stood in the 18th line of the second column. 
I shall discuss later on the irregularities in this second column of h; as to the first 
column, we know from 973 that Thettalus was indeed the victor in 340, and that 
Astydamas was the successful poet. The position of -cxev Just above -Aos gives pre- 
cisely the space required for the name of Astydamas. We may therefore look upon 
this fragment as confirming the restoration of Sosigenes in frag. e and of Praxiergus 
in frag. f. 

I had reached this point in the demonstration some five years ago, when occupied 
with the series of inscriptions relating to the dramatic contests. I could find no solu- 
tion of fragments f and e except on the basis of 140 lines. Frag. g, however, seemed 
to be wholly at variance with this result, and, besides, blocked the way to any other 
solution. It contains eight lines, including a complete date-line—Themistocles, the 
archon of 347/6, 7. e., five years before Sosigenes. According to the hypothesis of 140 
lines, therefore, it must have had a position in the same column as the first column of 
frag. e, and about half-way up the column; for e was at the bottom of its slab, as 
Kohler reported; and this report is shown to be correct by the fact that a portion of 
the record of the year after Aristophanes was at the top of the next column after e (7.e., 
frag. h, col. 2). But Kohler also reported that frag. g retains an original upper margin, 
so that it must have stood at the top of a column. Nowif Sosigenes was correctly 

277 


20 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE CrTy DronysIAa 





restored in ce, and Kohler’s observation regarding the upper margin of g was correct, 
this column would have contained only 76 lines, though the next column seemed to 
have 140. Either Kohler or my hypothesis was wrong. With this dilemma in mind 
I made a careful examination of frag. g, and was not surprised to find that the present 
upper margin is not original, but the result of a later cutting. The fragment had 
been put to some architectural use after it had been broken off. The broken letters 
which Kohler reports in the first line some distance below the present margin are, 
in fact, immediately below and on the margin (Plate IV); this line was half cut 
away when the present upper surface was made. Frag. g, therefore, is not against the 
hypothesis.” 

The reconstruction of the early portions of the inscription on the basis of 140 
lines to the column has been found to be the only possible solution of one of the three 
two-column fragments (¢), and the most suitable, if not the only, solution of the other 
two (f, h), and at the same time not opposed to the facts regarding frag. g. It remains 
only to test this result by considering the reconstruction as a whole. Two tests must 
be applied: (1) The intervals between any two fragments whose position in the column 
is fixed should yield an even number of twelve-line lists distributed over an even 
number of columns of 140 lines without excess or deficiency of lines, and (2) the other 
fragments which we have not considered must find a suitable position within the 
column, 7. e., the records contained in them must not be broken by column-divisions. 
The only fragments to be considered under the latter head are b and d. The former 
contains the archon of 422/1. It would fall well within the third column to the right 
of frag. f. The undated d would fit into any reconstruction, but the mention of the 
comic poet Procleides indicates that the date is somewhere near the thirties.” There- 
fore it may have had a place above Aristophanes, frag. e, col. 2, and below Thettalus 
in frag. h, col. 1; or it may have stood between frag. g and the first column of e, as I 
have placed it in the Plate IV. 

The first-named test is a rigorous one to apply to a document so fragmentary, for 
all sorts of inequalities, such as I have already suggested and such as are actually 
found in the last two columns, may have affected the lost portions. Besides, the extent 
of the heading over the columns, occupying the space of two lines, is as yet absolutely 
unknown. But the test must nevertheless be made, though we should not expect a 
perfect mathematical proof. Beginning, then, with fragg. a and f, the former of 
of which is fixed in position, let us test the interval down to the first column of e, 
which also is fixed. In order to get a date to begin with, let us assume that f was 
directly under a, as I have placed it in the plate, with the smallest possible interval; 
the lost archon in the 16th line of the third column would accordingly, on the supposi- 


56The tragic poet in the fourth line, reported as -u ves II, 9779, to establish the date of the list in 97ld. Ihad 
by Kopauer, was, I think, Astydamas. Though the surface not then recognized 977g as Lenaean. MUELLER’S criti- 
is in yery bad condition, traces of the letters..1Y\44M.= cism of the logic of my argument is well taken (Berl. phil. 


can be made out. Woch , VoL XX (1901), col. 213), but the period to which I 
s1Cf. Am, Jour. Phil., Vol. XVI (1896), p.325. Ithereused then assigned Procleides is right —the second half of the 
the position of Procleides in the list of comic poets, CIA century instead of the first (KOEHLER). 


Epwarp Capps a1 








tion of 140 lines, be Callimachus, 446/5. Sosigenes, 342/1, was in the 130th line of 
the column. The interval of 104 years between Callimachus and Sosigenes, at the 
normal rate of 12 lines to the year, would require 1248 lines. Now 125 of these are 
needed to fill out the column after Callimachus, and 129 for the column above Sosigenes, 
This leaves 994 lines for the full columns between, or 14 lines more than would 
be accommodated by seven columns of 140 lines. Assuming, again, that frag. f 
was separated from a by a larger interval, the remainder becomes larger also—25, 36, 
47, etc., lines according as the interval was one full year (11 lines), or two or three 
years, respectively. In other words, the records of the 104 years require more space 
by 14, 25, 36, 47, ete., lines than columns of 140 lines will yield. We have proceeded, 
however, as if the heading extended over all these columns. Obviously a limited 
number of extra lines are available if the space of two lines occupied by the heading 
in the first part of the inscription was used for the yearly record after the heading 
ceased; but this could not be more than 16 lines, for there were only eight columns 
between Callimachus and Sosigenes. The first remainder of 14 lines, therefore, should 
not disturb us. If f was close up to a, the heading was wanting in seven of these 
eight columns, 7. e., it extended over one column beyond frag. f. It is easy to see 
that this is the correct solution. The interval could not possibly have been one, three, 
or five years, because the resulting number of lines left between Callimachus and 
Sosigenes would be an odd number, while just 1248 are required. It is altogether 
improbable, further, that the interval was two, four, or six years; at any rate we may 
not assume such an interval, because we should be obliged at the same time to assume 
a constantly increasing irregularity in the annual lists, and that, too, of the most 
improbable kind—the contraction of the lists to less than 12 lines for each year. 
Clearly the only safe course is to assume that the twelve-line lists were constant, and 
that f was as close as possible to a, and that the heading extended over one column 
beyond the third column of f. The hypothesis of 140 lines has therefore met the 
most rigid test fully, and we have incidentally arrived at two facts of considerable 
importance for the reconstruction of the inscription as a whole. 

Applying the same test to fragments e and h, we obtain results not quite so 
remarkable for their precision, but yet not such as to discredit the conclusion which 
we have reached. The first column of frag. e connects properly with the first of h, as 
we have already seen. After this point we must recognize the existence of two lacunae, 
i. e., the normal twelve-lines lists do not quite fill out the space. The first is in the 
column above Aristophanes. This name should be the 133d after Sosigenes; it is, in 
fact, the 137th, about.” Four lines between the years 340 and 331 were therefore 
used for entries of which we have no knowledge. Again, between the second column of 
e and the second of h is more space by six lines, as I reckon it,” than is needed for the 
two years between Aristophanes and Cephisophon, after allowing for the spreading out 


59 The lines in the two columns are not exactly opposite. year began in the first line of the last column. This 
60 Eighteen lines are left for the year 331/0, if the next assumes 148 lines for this column (col. xiy in Plate). 


279 


22 Tue INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City DIONYSIA 





of the entries in the last column. The lower part of e is so corroded that Kohler 
thought there had never been writing upon it; but some of the space left vacant by him 
must have been used —all but the space of six lines, and more if the irregularity in 
the column above this point continued. And I am certain that I made out traces, 
though exceedingly faint, of letters in the upper part of this space. The existence of 
these lacunae does not vitiate in the least the conclusions reached above, for the evi- 
dence for the first eleven columns could scarcely be more clear and conclusive, as it 
seems tome. We can only explain the lacunae by supposing that occasionally, after 340, 
something new in the programme of the festival required additional space in the record. 

I may add here that the number of columns to the slab seems not to have been 
always the same. The last slab, containing fragg. g, e, d, h, had three columns, for 
the left margin of g is preserved, and the crowding in the second column of h indicates 
that this was the last column on the slab." There is no such crowding in the third 
column of f; this slab had three columns, perhaps more. Assuming three, the 
seven columns lying between f and g may have been distributed: 4+ 3, or 3 +4, 
or 3+2+42. Ishould think the chances somewhat against the supposition of a slab 
of more than three columns, and in favor of a series of threes and twos. 

This part of our reconstruction is complete. All the positive indications 
furnished by the fragments are in favor of 140 lines for the first four columns, and for 
142 for the rest. None of the available means of control—and they seem to be 
adequate—tends to throw suspicion upon this result.” We turn now to the second 
task—to fix the position of frag. f with relation to frag. a, though the result has 
already been anticipated in the preceding argument. 

The first two columns of f must have continued the two columns of a, as both 
Kohler and Lipsius assumed. Frag. f. cannot have preceded a, for the victories of 
Aeschylus and Magnes in a would then have been later than the Oresteia. Nor can 
f follow a, as Oehmichen assumed, for then the choregia of Pericles would go back 
into the nineties. The fact that frag. a was in the first column on its slab, as is shown 
by the preserved left margin, prevents the placing of the second column of f under the 
first column of a, and the resulting early date of Pericles’s choregia likewise prevents 
the placing of the first column of f under the second column of a.” We are there- 
fore obliged to consider f a direct continuation of a. 

The interval between the two fragments has already been determined by the 
space required for the 104 years between Callimachus and Sosigenes; Callimachus 
cannot have been below the 16th line in its column. The victories of Aeschylus, 
Pericles, and Magnes were won in the archonship of Menon, 473/2. This was the year 
of Aeschylus’s victory with the Persae-trilogy. There is nothing against this date 


61 The crowding may be due simply to the length of line 62 The introduction of the actors’ contest is fixed by the 
required in the first two columns of the slab, The average length of the column (p.17, above); it was in 450/49, archon 
for the first two columns is 20 letters to the line, while in a Euthynus. 


and f the average is about 17 or 18. But in this column 63 An arrangement which BODENSTEINER thought de- 
there is room for only 15. The slab was therefore wide served consideration. But with 140 lines it is of course 
enough for three columns of the usual width. out of the question. 


280 


EDWARD Capps 23 








in the fact that Pericles was choregus. For aught we know he was born ca. 500," 
and we know of one person who served as tragic choregus at the age of 18.” 

2. The lists of victorious comic poets, Dionysia and Lenaea.—We have already 
reached a date for Magnes and the beginning of the official comic contests at least 
as early as 473/2, and in so far have found a substantial confirmation for our interpre- 
tation of Aristotle. But we have also another inscriptional document which mentions 
Magnes, and its epoch date was certainly the year of the first victor in the comic 
contest at the City Dionysia. Through it we can establish the fact that Magnes had 
predecessors in the competitions prior to the year 473, and that in all probability 
Magnes himself exhibited and won victories considerably before the archonship of 
Menon. It will be advantageous to have this additional evidence before us before 
we continue our study of the catalogue of victors. 

The name of Magnes occurs again in the catalogues of victorious comie poets, 
at the top of fragment 7 of CIA II, 977. I give (p. 24) the text of this fragment 
and of the first column (frag. d) of the corresponding list for the other festival. The 
headings are restored in the manner which seems to me best to meet the requirements 
of both the remains of the Lenaean heading and the purpose of the catalogue. I 
have elsewhere tried to establish the fact that frag. 7 is the Dionysian list, frag. d the 
Lenaean, and need not repeat my arguments here.” Accepting this classification, and 
employing the data furnished by the inscription which we have just considered and by 
various didascalic notices, we may gain some idea concerning the period indicated by 
the position of Magnes’s name and concerning the beginning of the Dionysian cata- 
logue, which, of course, began with the first victor at the comic contest after the 
admission of comedy into the City Dionysia. 

In the full column under the heading there were originally fifteen names. The 
names are arranged chronologically in the order of first victories. It may therefore 
happen that the same poet may be mentioned at a considerably later period in one list 
than in the other, as for example Cratinus won a Lenaean victory much later than his 
first victory at the Dionysia. But in general a poet is earlier in the Lenaean list. To 
ascertain the period in which the first victory of Magnes fell we must learn from other 
sources the dates of the first Dionysian victories of other poets who followed him, and 


64So KIRCHNER, Prosop, Att.: “natusest non multo post 
a. 500.” He was born before the ostracism of his father 
in 484 (BELOcH, Gr. Gesch., Vol. I, p. 465, note 5). Aristotle 
characterizes him as veos in 463, i. e., ‘Sin the thirties ” 
(AQ, IloA,, 27,1). There is no ground whatever for SUSE- 
MIHL’S assumption, Revue de philologie, Vol. XIX (1895), 
p. 199: “‘vixque Pericles iam choregi officiis functus est, 
priusquam ad rempublicam accederet administrandam.” 
This liturgy was imposed upon the rich without any regard 
to their prominence in public affairs. 


65 Lysias, 21, 1. 
Soxipacia, 


The defendant was in the year of his 


66*The Catalogues of Victors at the City Dionysia, 
CIA II, 977,” Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XX (1899), pp. 388 ff. 
The classification in the Corpus is just the opposite. I am 


glad to note that my results have been accepted by Krrcu- 
NER, Prosopographia Attica, Add. et Corrig. in Vol. II 
(1903), and KrausE, De Apollodoris comicis, diss. Berol. 
(1903), p. 30. The late PROFESSOR KAIBEL also wrote me in 
approval, although in his articles on the comic poets in the 
Pauly-Wissowa Encyclopddie he had followed the current 
classification. ALBERT MUELLER in his able review of my 
article, Berl. philol. Wochenschr., 1901, 209 ff., advances a 
series of objections to my methods of argumentation — 
objections often valid enough taken singly, and in most 
cases expressly acknowledged by me. But his defense of 
BERGK’S classificatioa is based upon the false assumption 
that there was ever any valid reason in favor of it. It is 
enough if I have shown that my classification satisfies the 
evidence better than Bergk’s; the burden of proof should 
not be on the objector in this case, 


281 


24 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE CiTy DIonySIA 





Lenaea Dionysia 
CYA LF, Sita CIA II, 917% 
[KQMIKQNTAAHNAIJA[TTOJHTQN [KQMIKQNENA2TEITTOHTQN 
[OIAEENIKJQN OIAEENIKQN | 
ZJENOIAOS | eer 
THAEKAEIAH® TT Pata ears 
APISTOMENHS II Sat anasto 
KPATINOS III Or oe 
EPEKPATHS JI MAT NH]2 Al! 
EPMITTTTO= Ill Dene) oe er 
>PYNIXOS II A oben po ouNilales Le 
MYPTIAO& | i ons ose 
EY]JTTOAI Ill EYPPON|IO& |* 
Ba mustiebeec Ga ictk) EKAN]|TIAH8- 
eC CL Ceo KPATI|NO& TT 
ee urea abe AIOTTJEIOHS II* 
ets KPA]TH2 Ill 
KAAAIA] 811° 


1Tt is strange that KIRCHNER, Prosop. Att., s. v. Mayvys, understand on what grounds KAIBEL in Pauly-Wissowa 
should doubt this restoration, due to KOEHLER, which not regards the name, and the title of the play attributed to 
only fits the space, but also explains the eleven victories him, as a fraud. 
assigned Magnes by Anon. 7. xwx. IT Kaib, BERGK’s ob- 3 Due to OFHMICHEN, 
jection was based upon a faulty chronology and a misstate- 4My restoration. OEHMICHEN’S ®Ao]meiOns is impos- 
ment corncerning Anonymous; cf. Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. sible. Cf. Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XX, p. 396, note. 
XX, p. 398, note 1. 5 Am, Jour. Phil., Vol. XX, p. 396, note; cf. p. 15, f, col. 3, 
2 OEHMICHEN’S 'AAxtze ]vns suits the space and what we above. KiRcHNER, Prosop. Att., Vol. I, p. 467, seems to 
know of the poet; cf. MEINEKE, Hist. crit., p.101. I do not look with favor upon this restoration. 


make an estimate of the interval of time which separates their names in the list.” We 
may also in this way gain some information as to the number of poets whose names 
preceded his in the list. 

To begin with the last name, we have seen that the comic poet Kad-, who won 
the prize in the year 447/6 (971 f, col. 3), is probably KadAras, whose name makes a 
perfect restoration here. The first city victories of Crates and of Cratinus are probably 
indicated by the entries of Eusebius under the years 451/0 and 453/2 respectively,” 
so that we may properly assume that the victory of 447/6 was the first won by Callias. 
The one victory of Euphronius is recorded in 971 under the year of Philocles, 459/8. 
These four dates for the five names are entirely in harmony with each other— 


67This method was followed by ObHMICHEN, ‘‘ Ueber temporibus surgebant. So also Hieronymous and Syncel- 
die Anfange der dramatischen Wettkampfe in Athen,” lus; ef. Anon, 7, cwu. IT Kaib. concerning Cratinus’s first 
Sitzungsber. d.k, bayer. Akad. d. Wiss. zu. Miinchen, philos.- victory; vixa wera Thy ma’ OA, (the correction from me’ is cer- 
philol. Classe (1899), 155 ff. He also places Magnes as low tain; see Am. Jour. Philol., Vol. XX, p. 896). The error as 
as possible, and reaches the year 478 for the beginning of regards Plato should not be held to vitiate the whole 
the contest, 472 for the other list. But his argumentation notice, since the part which has to do with Cratinus is 
is weak and exceedingly superficial in details. manifestly correct. The ‘“‘epoch years” of these two poets 

68 Vers. Armen., sub Ol, 822: Crates comicus et Telesila were determined, then, by their first victories at the City 


cognoscebantur; sub Ol. 814: Cratinus et Platon comici his Dionysia. 


282 


EpWARD Capps 2b 





Euphronius 458, Cratinus 452, Crates 450, and Callias 446. The six poets mentioned 
between the years 458 and 446 won just one-half of the victories in these twelve 
years. 
immediately preceding, for they won only one victory each, but by Magnes and his 
predecessors. Again, we see that the name immediately following Magnes is to be 
restored in 971 f, col. 1, as the victor of the year 972/1. 
between this unknown poet and Euphronius, ten victories were won by Magnes and 


The others were won by the predecessors of Huphronius ; and not by the three 


In the thirteen years 


his predecessors. Magnes himself won only eleven times év aoree in his whole career, and 
although we learn from Aristophanes (/Cnights, 524) that his successes were won in his 
youth, and that he failed to please in old age, it is inconceivable that all his victories 
were won between the recorded victory of 472 and the year of Huphronius. We 
are obliged to assume, therefore, that one or more names preceded his in the list, with 
victories enough to their credit to fill up the catalogue down to 446; 7. e., with about 
seven at the least. The reputation of Chionides, whose name was linked with that of 
Magnes, in all probability was based upon a marked success in the competitions, as 
well as upon his early date; for he was not the only poet who competed in the early 
years after the admission of comedy. We should not be far wrong, I believe, if we 
should place Magnes as far down in this column as possible, assuming, say, four names 
before him, as I have done above. And this would bring the date of the first victory 
of Magnes some years before 472, possibly into the eighties, and Chionides might 
easily, as far as this list is concerned, have competed in the official contests as early as 
the year recorded by Suidas, 488 or 487. 

The Lenaean list in frag. d points to quite as early a date for the introduction of 
the comic contest into the Lenaea. By a consideration of all the datable Lenaean vic- 
tories in the fifth century I have elsewhere” shown that the first names in this frag- 
ment must be placed about 450 to 445. One full column of fifteen names must have 
preceded this column, as is shown by the heading. Assuming even a low average of victo- 
ries in the early period covered by the lost first column, we again reach the eighties for 
the beginning of the Lenaean list. Since the average number of victories won by the 
early poets at the Dionysia was relatively high, there is nothing against the supposi- 
tion that comedy was introduced into the Lenaea and the City Dionysia at the same 
time. 
the City Dionysia, but may be interpreted as indicating simply the establishment of 


Aristotle’s words, 6 dpyev edwxev, as we have seen, do not necessarily refer to 
the comic choregia. Frag. d is a proof that this interpretation is right.” 

3. The epoch date of the great catalogue. Returning now to the great catalogue 
of victors with the information which we have derived from the lists of comic poets, 


69 ‘Chronological Studies in the Greek Tragie and text of the hypothesis to the Plutus. But I now believe 


Comic Poets,” Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XXI (1900), pp. 52 ff., 
in a diseussion of Aristomenes, whose first Lenaean victory 
I dated ca. 445. I there raised again the question pro- 
pounded by BrerGxK, whether the Aristomenes of this list 
could be the same as the rival of Aristophanes of the year 
288. BrerGkK thought that there must have been two poets 
of the name, and I was inclined to suspect an error in the 


that we have evidence in Jnsc. Graec. Sic. et Ttal., 1097, to 
prove that there was only one Aristomenes and that he 
competed in 388. 

707 do not mean that it is proved that the admission of 
comedy into the two festivals took place in the same year, 
probable as it may seem, but that Aristotle did not intend 
to distinguish between the festivals. 


283 


96 THe INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City DionysrA 





let us try to determine what possibilities are offered in the lost first slab for the begin- 
ning of the eleven-line year-lists somewhere in the ten or fifteen years preceding the 
archonship of Menon. A number of possibilities will naturally offer themselves, and 
the choice among them will have to be determined by considerations other than 
epigraphical. But it will be well to have surveyed the field, at any rate, and to have 
reduced the possibilities to the narrowest limits. 

One slab of probably not more than three columns nor less than two preceded 
fragment a. The record of victors began with the name of the archon at the very top 
of one of these columns." From the available space in these columns we must deduct 
the six lines needed to fill out the year of Menon. The numbers to be dealt with 
are accordingly: 3 cols., 414 Il.; 2 cols., 274 ll.; 1 col., 134 Il. The epoch date of 
the stone will be either an even number, without remainder, of 11’s, if the introduc- 
tion of comedy into the City Dionysia is the epoch date, or of a combination of 8’s and 
11’s, if it was some other important event in the history of the contests at this festival. 

The epoch date of the inscription was not the first comic contest under state 
auspices, as has been maintained by Bergk, Reisch, and particularly by Wilamowitz; 
for, carrying the eleven-line lists back to the beginning of the first, second, and third 
columns, there is an excess of 2,” 10, and 7 lines respectively. This is the sound 
conclusion of both Miller and Bodensteiner, and relieves us of the painful necessity of 
making «@pov in the heading equivalent to Kowal, against which numerous protests 
have been raised. We must look for some event earlier than the epoch date of comedy. 

The events, of which we have knowledge, which must be taken into consideration 
as possible epoch dates, are: (1) The first tragic exhibition, by Thespis in 535/4. 
Brinck, in his admirable discussion of this question, has shown that, even if records 
were kept of the performances from this early period, yet it is altogether improbable 
that there should have been regular annual contests during the whole of this period. 
We know that the chorus of men dates only from 509/8," and comedy from a time 
many years later. If the epoch were the first exhibition of tragedy, it is strange that 
xopol tpaywoar, or the equivalent, was not used in the heading, instead of the more 
general term «@por, ‘‘celebrations.” (2) The establishment of the musical contests at 
the Dionysia. This is the idea of the majority, though expressed in a variety of 
ways; but it is an idea based upon the fragmentary heading, and leaves us as much in 
the dark as ever. (3) The establishment of the choregic system at the City Dionysia. 
This is essentially Brinck’s suggestion, and he would date this event 508 or soon 

71 OBHMICHEN assumed that if the heading contained both heading and columns work out satisfactorily without 
the archon’s name it would not have been needed at the this assumption. 
beginning of the first year and on this ground adopted the T2oiSe évixwy, it is true, may have occupied the extra 
theory of two columns of the 11-line year-lists. He accord- two lines on the assumption of one column. This would 
ingly restored "Emi Mévwvos, éh' od, etc. But, as MUELLER make the epoch date 485/4. But, as we have seen, a slab of 


pointed out, it would haye to be’Amd Mevwvos,cte,. Thedate one column is improbable. Other reasons will appear in 
line of the first year could therefore not be dispensed with. the more satisfactory solution. 

It has oceurred to me as possible that the oie evicwv was 73 Archonship of Lysagoras; see MUNRO on the Parian 
reserved out of the first line and set over the first column, Marble, Class. Rev., Vol. XV (1901), p. 357. The date usu- 
asin 977. This would give two lines less to deal with. But ally given, Isagoras, 508/7, must be corrected accordingly. 


284 


EDWARD Capps 27 


after, depending upon the Parian Marble’s notice about the first chorus of men 
in the year of Lysagoras. 

The establishment of the choregic system seems to me to be, on the whole, by far 
the most plausible suggestion for the epoch event. It was at that time that the archon 
first granted a chorus to tragedy and to the dithyramb. From that time dated the 
foundation and organization of these contests, so peculiarly an Attic institution, upon 
the basis which maintained itself for the next two centuries. The essential feature of 
this organization, as we see it in this inscription, was the choregia itself, and the par- 
ticipation of the tribes in the lyric contests. These both presuppose the democratic 
institutions of Cleisthenes. Before that time the exhibitions of dithyramb and tragedy 
had depended upon the patronage of individuals and of é@eAovraé. Neither the patrons 
nor the choruses represented the free people in the sense in which they did under the 
choregic system. It would be natural that the democracy should pride itself not a 
little upon the brilliant results of this system, and that Aristotle, the historian of these 
contests, should have selected this innovation as the great epoch by which should be 
dated the beginning of that glorious history. 

This hypothesis wins in plausibility when we place ourselves, in relation to this 
great document as a whole, in the position of the compilers of the records of these 
two centuries of contests, kept in the archives of the state, which they were author- 
ized to put upon marble and erect upon the acropolis. The record was probably not con- 
tinued, at least in this form, after the discontinuance of the choregic system. Soon 
after Aristotle’s death, between 316 and 309," the choregia was displaced by the 
agonothesia. The democratic institution was abolished and the state reverted to a form 
of that patronage which existed before Cleisthenes. The whole conception of the 
musical contests had by this time suffered a complete change. When the state officials 
undertook to set up a permanent record of the victors under the old system in the 
contests—a magnificent testimony to the ideals of the old democracy now dead— what 
epoch could they more appropriately have chosen than the date of the establishment 





of the institution which, more than any other agency, had rendered this remarkable 
record possible? It was a review from the beginning to the end of the system in 
which public-spirited citizens, not independent patrons nor agonothetes in the guise of 
representatives of the demos, vied with each other to the honor of Dionysus and the 
edification of their fellow-citizens. 

When was the choregia established? The inscription may help to decide; but let 
us first bring together the few independent data. It can hardly have been one of the 
institutions of Cleisthenes himself. In the stormy year of Isagoras, after his brief 
term of exile when Cleomenes came up from Sparta, he doubtless accomplished little 
more than Aristotle indicates in the "A@nvadwy Tloduteda, 20 f: the formation of the ten 
tribes, the establishment of the Boule of 500, the laying out of Attica into demes, 
the demarchs to take the place of naukraroi, the naming of the demes and tribes, and 


74 In 3809/8 according to KOEHLER, 
285 


28 Tue INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City DIONYSIA 








some important legislation for the strengthening of his political machine. It was not 
until the year of Hermocreon, érec wéurt@ peta TavTHv THY KaTaoTaow, that we learn 
of an innovation that suggests the wider use of the tribal system such as is implied in 
the choregia for lyric contests. At that time the senatorial oath was formulated; 
éreita Tos oTpaTHyoUS ypovvTo KaTa uAds, eE ExdoTns THS pudAms eva. Here is an 
application of the new system of tribes to administration —the essential feature of 
the lyric choregia. The choregia itself may, of course, have been established some 
years later, but it is not likely to have been earlier, than Hermocreon. Unhappily 
we do not know the exact date of this archon, for, although the 7éu77@ would mean 
504/3 or 503/2, yet in the next sentence Aristotle dates the battle of Marathon peta 
taita dwdexaTo.” But the period is clearly enough defined. 

Guided by these considerations, let us see if a reconstruction of the lost begin- 
ning of the inscription can be obtained which shall satisfy the two fundamental condi- 
tions —a suitable epoch date for the inscription itself and a date for the first comic 
contest which shall be consistent with all the evidence which we have reviewed. 
Three columns before frag. a would carry us beyond the establishment of the democracy ; 
one is improbable. On the supposition of two columns, however, two possibilities are 
offered if we reckon from the the victory of Magnes in the year of Menon:” 

1. The first comic contest, 479/8; the epoch date of the inscription, 505/4. 

2. The first comic contest, 487/6; the epoch date of the inscription, 502/1. 

If Aristotle meant to define the epoch date of comedy strictly by reference to the 
same epoch for tragedy, the granting of a chorus by the archon, some may feel that 
the interval of fifteen years offered by (2) is insufficient to justify the phrase opé 
mote, and on this ground may prefer to accept the interval of 26 years offered by (1); 
although, in the case of Epicharmus and Chionides, the scant 14 years between 
their assumed “epochs” are generally thought ample for the 7oAA@ mpétepos. I 
am inclined to think, however, that we are not at liberty to interpret Aristotle so 
strictly,” inasmuch as we know that tragedy had a standing in the state festivals long 
before the democracy, indeed as early as 534. We must remember, too, that owé 
may refer to the relatively late stage in the development of comedy at which recogni- 





tion was accorded by the state, and not merely toa term of years after tragedy. By either 
of the alternatives, therefore, the demands of Aristotle’s text will be satisfied. But 
we must take into consideration here three other factors in the question which 
have been discussed, viz.: (1) the list of victorious comic poets, which demands 
several names before Magnes and a number of contests before him which the six 


75 KIRCHNER, in his list of archons at the end of the 76The full list of possibilities, mathematically speak- 
second volume of his Prosop. Att., assigns Hermocreon ing, is as follows: 
provisionally to 5010, in this following W1LAMowtITz, 274 lines—495 and 499: 487 and 502: 479 and 505. 
Aristoteles und Athen, Vol. I, p. 24. The year 504 3 is taken . y 


4 . On the assumption that ode évixwv occupied two lines of 
by Acestorides. It seems to me possible to explain 


Aristotle without altering either of these figures by mak- the first column the figures would be: 

ing era ravta refer to the changes indicated from érecra 272 lines—497 and 498 ; 489 and 501; 481 and 504; 473 and 507 
on, and regarding them as subsequent (by one year) to 77 See p. 10, and note 33. 

Hermocreon; Isagoras, 508; Acestorides, 504; Hermocreon, 


erm n 787t is hard to see how anyone can interpret ¢v agree in 
508; émrecra, 502; Marathon, 490. 


the Parian Marble to mean anything but the City Dionysia 


286 


EpWARD Capps 29 





years offered in the first alternative would scarcely satisfy; (2) the notice of Suidas 
about Chionides—since the victory of Magnes was won in 473/2, we obtain in the 
second alternative precisely the date given by Suidas;” and (3) the probability of the 
establishment of the choregia, considered as an institution, not far from the archon- 
ship of Hermocreon. These considerations would all favor the second alternative. 
We might add also (4) the slight evidence of the list of victorious tragic poets, 977a. 
The name of Aeschylus is first in the fragment. His first victory was won in 
485/4. Possibly as many as eight names preceded him on the list, but not more. 
And yet, if the epoch date of the list were 20 years before the first victory of 
Aeschylus, the poets of this period maintained a surprisingly high average of victories. 
At any rate, 502 is just a little more probable, on this ground also, than 505. In 
view, therefore, of all these considerations, we may conclude with a fair degree of con- 
fidence, as it seems to me, that the dramatic and lyric choregia was established in the 
year 502/1, and that the first comic contest at the Dionysia took place in 487/6. 

A word as to the heading of the great inscription: It extended over six columns, 
with nine or ten letters to the column. About twenty letters, therefore, preceded 
-T | ov Kou and about twenty-five followed jaav tw-. The restoration mpat lov may be 
regarded as certain. «por, however, if the meaning is simply ‘‘celebrations,”’ were not 
held for the first time in 501; dithyrambic exhibitions as well as tragedies had charac- 
terized the City Dionysia for many years before this. I take it that ce@mor would have 
no proper application in such a context except when joined to the name of a festival. 
Poppelreuter” has aptly compared Eurip. Hel., 1469: k@por ‘TaxiOov—‘Takivira. 
This would give us here the name of the festival, which, besides, we should regard as 
indispensable in the heading of such a document, where the Dionysia had to be distin- 
guished from the Lenaea, as, e. g., in the lists of victors above. Then we should expect 
the precise date of the epoch and the fact that the catalogue was to register the victors. 
The latter would in all probability follow the usual formula, ode évixwv; the former would 
very likely be the name of the archon. Now we chance to know something about the 
I[v@ovicat drawn up by Aristotle and his nephew Callistratus—a list something like this 
Nixa Avovuotaxal. It too, like this, was werayeypappevos els oTHANV NOY, as we learn 
from the decree of the Delphians recently discovered by the French and cleverly restored 
by Homolle.* From the preamble we infer that precisely these three items entered into 
the heading: epoch date, festival, and characterization, and that the epoch date was 
fixed by reference to the archon.” This model would suit our inscription admirably: 

I II Ill Iv v VI 
"Am |o Tob deivos | ... €f ob mpa|T lov KOpot H\cav TA[ v év ao\ Te Avovycl wy olde évik | wv. 
The two extra letters at beginning and end would be provided for in the margins.” 


79 Taking ox7w as an ordinal, ‘tthe eighth year.” an[o TvAisa vev]ixnx[o7]wv zt[a Mv0ca]. The corresponding 

; . adi 7 e something like "Avo TvAcda €’ ob mpazov 
80One of the sententiae controversae attached to his heading would be SOE ething | ke. 5 2 BUNS GLY Gh ae 
K@pot (ay@ves?) joav Tov Hvbiwy ode evicxwy, 


dissertation De primordiis. f 
7 a - 2 83 This, the simplest possible form of heading, may be 
81 Bull. de corr. hell., Vol. XX (1898), p. 260; DrrTEen- taken to show that oiSe évixw» was not reserved for the 
BERGER, Sylloge, ed. 2, Vol. II, No, 915. second line, and that 272 lines should not be taken instead 
82 The preamble reads: [emet.... ov |ve[taéav mivaxa tT lov of 274 as the basis of calculation. 


287 


30 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE City DionystIA 








With the new conception of the early history of Attic comedy many matters once 
obscure receive new light. There is no reason now, for example, why we should not 
accept in their full significance the conclusions ably deduced by Poppelreuter from the 
early Attic vase-paintings, for comedy had indeed, as Aristotle says and as the paint- 
ings prove, ‘‘taken on a more or less definite form” by the year 487. The long- 
cherished illusion concerning the establishment of the City Dionysia about the time 
of the Persian Wars, to which Ribbeck gave currency, is at last definitively dissipated, 
and also the other misconception as to the Lenaea as the festival in which comedy was 
nurtured long before its recognition by the state. And, finally, we have learned once 
more that we may not depart one jot from the words of Aristotle, the fountain-head of 
all our knowledge of the beginnings of the drama. Where we cannot follow him, we 
ourselves are blind. 


EXPLANATION OF PLATE IV 


The details of my reconstruction of the Catalogue of Victors, and the restorations in it to 
which I have been led, are given in the accompanying Plate. The seven published fragments 
are given in capitals, and, with the exception of frag. d (see p. 20), are placed in the position 
in which they belong. The so-called frag. ¢ is purposely omitted (see p. 14, note 49). 

A critical study of this Plate will provide the best possible demonstration of the correct- 
ness of the reconstruction as a whole. It should be clear, for example, that, given in frag. a 
the original upper margin and in e the lower, no other hypothesis as to the number of lines in 
the column and the extent of the heading would work out satisfactorily; further, that frag. f 
cannot possibly occupy any other position in relation toa. It will also be seen that the lost 
first columns can be restored in no other manner that will satisfy equally well the conditions 
imposed by the facts derived from other sources. The irregularities in Culs. XIV and XV are 
indicated as accurately as possible. 

For convenience I have added in ordinary Greek type victories won at the City Dionysia 
about which we chance to have information from any source, provided that the year is known, 
No claim to completeness is made, however. I have ventured to enter here several events not 
expressly recorded as City victories, in accordance with my conviction that the chronographers 
took into account only the record of victories ¢v dere (cf. Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XX, p. 395), and 
that the Parian Chronicle records only first victories won at this festival (Am. Jowr. Phil, 
Vol. XXI, p. 41). For the notices from Eusebius see p. 24. For the victory of Alexis in 3857/6 
see Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XXI (1900), p. 60, supported by Munro, Class. Rev., Vol. XV (1901), 
p. 360. The lyric victories are mainly from Brinck, Inse. Graec. ad choreg. pertin., and 
Bodensteiner, “Ueber choregische Weihinschriften,” Mestschr. d. philol. Sem., Miinchen, 1891, 
The events entered after the year 329/8, while correct as to the year, are placed only approxi- 
mately in the right position in the column, 


Norsg.— At the last moment I have received from my former pupil, Mr. D. M. Robinson, Fellow 
of the American School at Athens, by the courteous permission of the discoverer, Dr. Adolph Wilhelm. 
a squeeze of a new fragment which joins frag. h on the left. It gives Astydamas in Col. XIV, 12, and 
Theophrastus in 1. 14— welcome confirmation of my reconstruction of this part of the record. More 
welcome still is the promise of Wilhelm’s edition of this whole series of inscriptions in the near future, 


288 


- 
= : ae 
17% "x. 71x 
ETO IL vedere aerapord 
> 1S ——— Kit eR ea 
ets 
ane 
Whbneeuecn 
CUE «SHOMAUNSE 
{3{1AFO% ]3 sibeogoys 
WBNEAPOIASFOAIOIO ox: 
WOAMIAIT LPO IL VWNR[AAIASSAMAAYTSA 
SOPFIOHNZHMIMATH|O ZOA(A 
ISYH[SOKS QE\OEE eines 
Wan JSAAIABSHAM.. . 
SHTIGALOTTY Oh. we ner: 
_ ZOANGONHOA HOR DRATE Vier eI 
nee Ayele SOTUNGOFIONAITIS AO THY ELLOS 


MGATIATIEITMQOOTITIF Ho! LRAT Head wliev we 
witviviisin 
MAGEE wonylnll s mi bo alan iy ii Sw alo Len Vis 
aidive swear =—SbSt TT 2 ae sere 
fer wacin? ihowre= i pELPSH) #9 
abatsh airveboes 


in 4 





engin) aalomndxokbaobg® “nO ce oe 
Vest 3 ae 7 B\ eee 
hd pe? «© a 
a RANS ty 
OUTHERN iC iA 
SIcRSITY oF CALI 
MOH \eBRARY 
SST YBRES Greta Sail” 
i/ae 
Tees 
sigh gyri 
aphink® apdhyod Al 
Si PPK? 
Vis sofas 
Wt AEM qrwoeBS voy het 
Tals 
rw 
Ovree 
Hse 
1/ftc ; 
Orie 
é/r 
= eer 
? é 
B\OLE voBioAnonygt felt” 2\OSE sorpeied iT 
2 ae or eerTyy : > 7 a. 


* £ ae 


a m7 HE ~- 
= EQIAASKE A ei TAA 
/ TPATOIAON _. EPMITTITJOZEOIOASKEN 
ZEHOKAHEACISNA. EXOPH ® TPArO)ICON m "Est Tersbinerroe 3973/4 
Olrgit wate (1) 


“ IIWITATAWIEDY3 
is: OaBbapes “Ofer brepire 111285 


ETIABPONG? (4608/7) “ 
ei MISTAISON P  _Ymot 
ai “PYAH EXOPH . E\TTIAAKAIOY 42/1 
AEONTIZANG PON ‘% MTTOOANTIETTAISON 
_ GEINOSTPATOSEXO[PHTEL 


3s Kowoicon 
eo ‘oPHr 


ther Pgieg? 


AAEZIZES[IBASKEN 
TPATOISON 
_.  KAJEOMAXOMAXA[PN: EXOPH 
7 OAM [AEKEN 


< AIONYE 
~ 


Zocahqn therm Aa}. VH. 2.8) 
Sebol. Ae 1017 


"Erk Kaplon A154 
Aiyg walbew 
110 Tg HBaracy 11 1200, Add. 
axe nus 


OKAEI (GH 


ie 
TRATQIG[ON 


tophanes in comedy aye 
cheragia, IV, 2p U4) 








is 








University of California 
SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
Return this material to the library 
=e from which it was borrowed. 


oct 06 198) 
RECEIVED 
APR 29 1997 


Arlo Libnany 








Fo 








RARY, 
LOS ANGELES, CALIF. 





Unive RSITY. OF “CALIFORNIA, 
LLB. 








. 
“% 
) (Ep ee te OS TLE ct AA 
£ _ _ 

























































































































































































































































































